


A Mile Away

by lenaballena



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bodyswap, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, canon-typical alcohol use, canon-typical social issues, feat. the mental gymnastics involved in falling for someone who's currently inhabiting your body, hockey things?, if i included every idea i had for dex nursey and chowder being besties this fic would be 80k, like racism homophobia mention etc. etc., takes place first year for incredibly valid reasons i had when i started writing, that i can no longer remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaballena/pseuds/lenaballena
Summary: The thing is, he’s had study nights and tv marathons in Chowder’s room. He’s gotten stoned in Shitty’s, and Lardo’s, crashed on Jack’s floor after a kegster, gone to Bitty’s for advice, and checked Ransom and Holster’s for ghosts. If it were anyone else’s, Nursey would at least have some indicator of what was going on, because he’d be able to recognise the decorations, the layout.But Derek Nurse wakes up in William Poindexter’s room and has no idea where thefuckhe is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Before you criticise someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you do criticise them, you'll be a mile away, and you'll have their shoes." - Jack Handey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this fic started as a 'huh why haven't i seen this au in this fandom' and ended as a Very Long Monstrosity of a fic. it's completely finished, i just like posting in chapters. it makes me feel a little less aware of the fact that i impulse-wrote 40k of bodyswap au instead of working on literally anything else
> 
> just a little note to start things off: this fic switches between nursey's and dex's pov throughout the chapters, though i'm fairly sure the majority is from dex's, for a lot of reasons but mostly because i like writing irrational anger and describing how beautiful derek nurse is
> 
> that being said, any microaggressions one might find within the text are intentional and serve to establish the characters' point of view and whatnot, they're meant to be there it's not just me being an asshole
> 
> all double entendres are also 100% intentional

Upon reflection, and only under extreme duress, Dex can admit that the fight that started it all was his fault. And that he was _sort of_ being irrational about the whole thing. But, well.

Before Samwell and all the insanity it delivered to him personally, before he started thinking of himself as _Dex_ , like a background member of a shitty 90s boyband, back when his life was blissfully free of Derek Nurse, Dex went to a shitty public school in a shitty small town, adorned in his older brother’s finest hand-me-downs. 

And the thing about growing up poor is that sometimes this toxic mixture of pride and embarrassment lodges itself in the back of your mind and makes it very clear that you should be ashamed of not having money. It manifests in a variety of ways. It’s Billy the summer before seventh grade, going without ice cream or trips to the pool to save up for a couple of Abercrombie and Fitch shirts, because no one poor walked around with that brand embroidered on their chest. It’s Will feeling guilty as he lied and complained about his controlling, unreasonable parents who wouldn’t let him have a cellphone, and swallowing the truth that there was no way in hell they could afford another phone plan so a sixteen year old could text his friends. It’s every time he’s painted his parents as the bad guys because it was easier than admitting otherwise, or sat at home staring at the ceiling because all his friends were out doing something he couldn’t afford.

Honestly, Dex knows there’s nothing wrong with treading the poverty line, knows there’s a lot of pride in knowing where every cent you have comes from, measuring your earnings in the stiffness of your shoulders and the calluses of your hands. But, high school fucking sucks. An incontrovertible fact of life. And as much as he told himself, the moment his foot touched ground in Samwell, that he would not let some preppy silver-spooned assholes make him feel like actually working for something made him less worthy of it, old habits die hard. He’s had a lifetime of desperately pretending to not be as poor as he is, and that shit’s hard to shake in just a couple of months.

So, in early November, when Dex realises he needs a more substantial fall jacket, and googles the furthest possible second-hand store from campus, he tells himself it’s because it’s nice walking weather, and that he wants to explore the area around Samwell, and doesn’t think about it too much.

After a half hour walk and firmly situated in the gap between his last Friday lecture and the time Bitty’s usually in the mood to bake (growing up poor rule #1: never pass up free food), Dex shifts through the clothing racks, considering a brown flight jacket and coming across a cardigan with leather elbow patches that screams ‘Nursey’ so violently at him he has to move it to another rack for his mental and emotional wellbeing. Pulling the flight jacket off the hanger, Dex shrugs it over his shoulders, turns to examine it in the mirror, and freezes.

As Derek _fucking_ Nurse walks through the door.

And in that moment, Dex is thirteen year-old Billy Poindexter, heart stopping in his chest as he and his mom leave the Dollar Store and he locks eyes with Jesse Coburn, following his parents into the organic food store across the parking lot, and watches Jesse’s eyes widen with the sort of malevolent glee only thirteen year-old bullies are capable of. 

Dex braces himself for the inevitable chirping, or worse, eyes fixed on Nursey. He’s such a fucking idiot. He’s in a fucking Good _will_ for Christ’s sake, it’s like he’s trying to make it _easy_ for them. 

Nursey looks around the store for a moment, before his eyes fall on Dex. 

“Oh, ‘sup dude.” Nursey says, walking towards Dex with a sort of half-smile pulling at his lips. “You know about this place too? Man, the ones close to campus are _mad_ crawling with rabid hipsters. Didn’t know you were into the thrifting scene, that’s chill.” He makes a fist, offering it up for a bump, which Dex does not accept, because Dex can’t move. He might be physically incapable of doing anything that isn’t staring at Nursey in horror. Nursey bumps it against Dex’s bicep instead as he moves past him. “Jacket suits you, bro.”

Dex turns to watch as Nursey picks up the same _fucking_ cardigan he’d seen earlier, approximate price, four bucks, and slides it over his broad shoulders and Ralph Lauren shirt, approximate price, up to something like five-hundred dollars. 

And Dex just. Fucking loses it.  


 

\---

He’s not even really sure what they’re arguing about. 

He knows they touch on the important issues, starting with Nursey having the audacity to call other people rabid hipsters (hypocritical), then the fact that Nursey can obviously afford to shop elsewhere (taking affordable clothing away from those who can’t), then Nursey’s ever-present green snapback (strangely irritating, probably hasn’t ever been washed), and Nursey’s snapchat stories (excessively long, always ‘aesthetic’ snaps or videos of his coursemates smoking weed and talking about memes, an overall waste of time).

Dex barely registers buying the flight jacket, leaving the store, and walking for half an hour, which is how long it must have taken to walk back to the Haus, even if Nursey, for all his ‘chill’, books it anywhere he goes, walking twice the speed of any normal person as if he ever has anywhere to be. The arguing just gets worse as they go, more personal, and as they approach the Haus it turns, as it so often does, into Nursey insisting that Dex _somehow_ has privilege Nursey doesn’t, as Dex tries to get it through Nursey’s head that he’s incredibly privileged, richer than God, and an asshole.

“Fuck, Dex, some things go beyond money, okay? Some things are more important.” Nursey says, shaking his head as he pushes open the door to the Haus.

“Yeah, I guess if I’d always had money, I’d think that too.” Dex huffs, closing the door behind them.

Nursey groans. “Dude, do you like, ever listen to a word I say? It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall here.”

“Do you ever listen to anything _I_ say?!” Dex counters, maturely, as they head towards the kitchen, where Chowder is perched on the counter. Bitty is mysteriously somewhere that isn’t the kitchen, but half a pie is waiting on the table.

“Hey Chowder.” They say in near unison, as Chowder looks up from his phone, just this side of exasperated.

They go right back to arguing. “Maybe if you took the stick out of your ass for like, five seconds and like, gained a little global awareness, I’d listen to your fucking sob story about how being a white male in America is such a _hardship_ for you just because you shop at Target or whatever.” Nursey grunts, leaning down to scoop a slice of pie onto a plate, and _god_ , Dex wants to punch him in the face more than he’s ever wanted to punch anyone in the face ever in his life. Nursey has this aura about him that clearly says he’s never been punched in the face, and Dex really thinks it’d do him some good.

“If I take the stick out of my ass, it’s because I’m planning to _beat you with it_.” Dex hears the scary-cold edge of his own voice, the one that warns anyone with sense to back the fuck off.

Nursey takes a step back, eyebrow raised. “That’s… a really weird mental image, dude.” He says, _smirking_ , because Nursey doesn’t have any sense. Of course he can’t take seriously Dex’s body language, or tone of voice, or any of the red flags Dex is sending up that clearly read _do not fuck with me right now, Derek Nurse._

“ _Fuck_ you, Nurse.” He spits out, his hand not holding the Goodwill bag tightening into a fist that he can’t force himself to unclench.

Nursey blinks at him. “Sorry, man, far be it from me to criticise your anal weaponry.” He’s still grinning, and there are few things that piss Dex off more than Nursey _laughing at him_ when he’s this angry.

“It’s not about the- _ugh.”_ Dex will not hit Nursey in front of Chowder. He won’t. “I can’t take this anymore. You. _Constantly._ I just-”

Nursey crosses his arms against his chest, leaning carelessly against the counter. “Sorry ‘bout that, William. I’ll talk to Murray tomorrow, see if the coaches’ll pair us with other people, that work for you?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think you should.” Dex says before Nursey’s even finished his sentence, and he’s surprised to find that he _means_ it. And he’s surprised that he’s surprised. 

Nursey looks like Dex has just broken his ‘no-hitting-in-front-of-Chowder’ rule, and sucker-punched him in the gut. He only ever loses his precious ‘chill’ for a moment, though, and after a second he shrugs. “Sure man, whatever. No fucking loss here.”

“What, c’mon guys,“ Chowder pleads, and Dex feels some of the tension leave him upon hearing a voice that isn’t Nursey’s. “This is silly, just-“

“It’s fine, C.” Nursey shrugs, _again_. “We were never gonna be friends.”

Chowder shrinks in on himself a little, looking like a kicked puppy, and a significant amount of guilt begins to mingle with the cold anger stewing in Dex’s gut. It’s all too much. He turns and marches right back out of the Haus, because everyone knows it’s Nursey’s territory. 

Dex isn’t great with new people, and first impressions, and the team tends to think he’s some uptight homophobe for some reason, and he hasn’t _really_ bonded with anyone in the Haus yet. The closest he’s come is fixing Bitty’s oven, and even then, it’s just Bitty. Bitty loves everyone. Chowder’s a special case, because Bitty would probably sign adoption papers if he could and Chowder wasn’t already a legal adult, but Dex swears he’s seen Bitty tweeting about how _cool_ Nursey is. Besides, Nursey and Shitty went to school together, and Nursey and Lardo had this instant bond from mutual love of Shitty and endless amounts of chill and artsy bullshit, and a stamp of approval from Shitty and Lardo is an instant in with Jack, and with Ransom he’s pretty sure it’s just like a- well. There are a lot of white guys on the team. 

But what matters is that Nursey _belongs_ in the Haus, in a way Dex doesn’t. He hangs out there more than Dex does, because he’s not doing a real degree and has shit-tons of free time. And honestly, the Haus, with Bitty constantly baking to Beyoncé, and Shitty walking around naked lecturing people on feminism, and Ransom and Holster’s less than platonic bromance, and how loud it just always seems to be, is a _lot_ for Dex to process, and he can’t just be effortlessly comfortable in it the way Nursey can. Everything just comes easy to Nursey, the way it doesn’t for Dex, and he doesn’t think he can deal with it anymore. Nursey’s mere presence is a constant reminder of everything Dex isn’t, and everything he can’t have; he’s doing some bullshit major because he doesn’t have to worry about making money, he has people of any gender he likes falling over themselves for him, he can be a poet and into guys because there’s no _risk_ for him. If Dex doesn’t do everything in his life a certain way he’s _fucked_ , his life is over, and Nursey just fucking waltzes through everything and has the _audacity_ to claim Dex has privilege. 

Dex is just done, with all of it. The pressure to get along because they’re d-men, and they have chemistry on the ice or whatever, so everyone just assumes they’ll ignore every reason they have to hate each other because of it. He tried, he really did, for the team and for Chowder, who honestly doesn’t deserve the shit they put him through. But it’s gotten to the point where he spends half the time he isn’t around Nursey fixated on Nursey and all the things he does that piss Dex off, and he’s going to have a heart attack if it keeps up.

As he’s crossing the river, walking back to the dorms, Dex suddenly realises he didn’t even pick up a slice of pie. He lets out a stream of curses that would make Chowder blush, frightening some passerby who probably weren’t expecting him to start shouting on a bridge at five in the afternoon, but maybe they can see his SMH hoodie and fill in the blanks.

 

\---

After a night of lounging around the Haus, letting themselves pretend they lived there and hanging out with the team, Nursey and Chowder walk back to the dorms together.

Chowder is the beautiful kind of individual who knows how to seamlessly tiptoe around a subject, so he never once mentions their mutual- well, Nursey would’ve said friend, but apparently not. Instead, Chowder spends half the walk talking everyone _else_ on the team, starting with the way Holster had noticed Chowder starting to yawn mid-Mario Kart, and told Nursey to ‘get Chowder home, alright? Kid needs his rest’. And Chowder had made a face but he wants to be on the team’s good side as much as any of the frogs, so off the two of them went.

So, Chowder’s not really talking about the team. _Ranting_ would probably be the more appropriate word. But it does wonders taking Nursey’s mind off Dex.

“I’m not a kid! I’m legally an adult, I can go to prison!” Chowder says, his hands gesticulating with every word. “I know I tend to ramble, but I just get excited sometimes and I like to talk about things I like! Sorry I’m not _dead inside_.” He huffs, and Nursey cackles laughing.

“Jeez, C. Tell me how you really feel.”

“I just- _augh_ -” Chowder grunts, kicking at a pebble. “I just work really hard, and I’m worried no one’s ever gonna take me seriously.”

Nursey lets the words sink in- okay, yeah, this is something they need to talk about. 

“C,” Nursey stops him with a hand on his arm, looks directly into Chowder’s eyes. “I saw everyone’s reaction when you did that crazy save off the back of your foot. _And_ when it took Jack fucking Zimmermann twenty shots to get a single puck past you. You’re the starting goalie. As a _freshman_. We take you seriously.”

Chowder exhales slowly, resigned. “Yeah, I know.” They start walking again. “It’s just- at our game against Yale, the guys kept shouting really nice stuff from the benches, which was fine! But it just kinda felt like they were trying to make sure I didn’t freak out, or something. I get enough crap for being Chinese and playing hockey without also being the baby goalie who needs moral support when he’s in the crease.”

“Ah.” Nursey definitely understands where Chowder’s coming from. Hockey is a _very_ white sport that doesn’t exactly encourage weakness. “Man, you can always talk to someone if it really bothers you- maybe Bitty? He does it the most.” 

“Um.” Chowder starts. “Yeah, well, with Bitty I don’t mind it because he’s Southern, so it’s just how he talks, and,” He pauses, flushing a little. “Gonna be honest, I _blink_ and he makes me whatever food I want. I’m wiling to put up with the babying for that.”

“You sneaky son of a bitch.” Nursey says approvingly, and Chowder laughs. “Maybe Rans and Holster, then? They’re hella easy to talk to.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They get to the dorms, and this is where they part ways, Nursey knows. He turns to Chowder. “And hey, word to the wise? Sometimes, people underestimating you is the best gift they could give, _especially_ in hockey.” He raises his arms in an invitation for a hug goodbye, which Chowder accepts with a smile. As they pull away, Nursey continues, “And I promise to stop coddling you.”

“Eh, it’s really not that big of a deal.” Chowder waves him off, before groaning. “But I mean, _c’mon_ , people, I’m older than Dex!”

“Well, Dex is a literal child so that doesn’t really help your case, does it.”

Chowder laughs. “Be nice.” He scolds lightheartedly, then says quietly, “Are you guys really gonna start playing with different people?”

Nursey exhales. He was doing so well forgetting about all the Dex bullshit. “No fucking clue. Up to him, I guess.”

“You guys are so good together, though!”

“Are we?” Nursey plays with the lining of his jacket pockets, feeling uncomfortable. “Hey, sorry we keep dragging you into our shit, C.”

“Nah, it’s cool, I’ve always wondered what having divorced parents would feel like.” Chowder teases, and Nursey can’t help but laugh in response.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” He smiles, and Chowder gives him a little wave before turning and walking off, back to his own dorm.

 

\---

The morning after Dex starts a fight with him for no _fucking reason_ and decides they can no longer be a d-man pair, Nursey wakes up in Dex’s bed.

Which is fucked up on _multiple_ levels.

The thing is, he’s had study nights and tv marathons in Chowder’s room. He’s gotten stoned in Shitty’s, and Lardo’s, crashed on Jack’s floor once, gone to Bitty’s for advice, and checked Ransom and Holster’s for ghosts. If it were anyone else’s, Nursey would at least have some indicator of what was going on, because he’d be able to recognise the decorations, the layout.

But Derek Nurse wakes up in William Poindexter’s room and has no idea where the _fuck_ he is.

He was _fairly_ sure that after parting ways with Chowder the night before, Nursey went to his own dorm, to his own bed, and read a couple chapters of homework before passing out to Fresh Prince on Netflix.

He’s also pretty sure he wasn’t kidnapped and didn’t go home with anyone, and he seems to be alone in the room anyway, so, like. What the fuck. He sits up, and immediately feels his head rush and pins and needles _everywhere_ , and then the room is spinning. It feels almost like a hangover, except hangovers make him feel heavy, and sluggish, and disconnected from his own uncooperative, painful body. This is something completely different, because Nursey is hyperaware of every part of him, and the beating of his heart, like his mind is racing to keep up with whatever his body is doing. Nursey takes a deep breath, focuses on the wall across from him, steadies his breathing. He feels a headache coming on.

The empty bed across the room has a halo of film posters and photographs taped up on the walls, but Nursey’s bed- the bed he woke up in- he mentally corrects himself, is mostly bare, a knitted blanket that looks homemade the only thing with personality. There’s a map on the wall above the desk, and a stack of binders that look familiar in that every student in the country has owned identical ones at some point.

Nursey reaches for one, meaning to open it and check for a name on an assignment, catches a glimpse of his hand as he does so, and promptly overbalances, falling out of bed and onto the floor, and bangs his elbow against the desk. His pasty white, red flushed, freckle-smattered elbow, attached to his equally white arm. His white legs flail out underneath him, and he screams.

Which is when the pounding at the door starts, which makes him scream again, louder.

The pounding at the door turns into banging. “NURSE.” A familiar sounding, if muffled, voice shouts through the wood, and Nursey trips over his newly acquired white feet as he scrambles for the doorknob, mostly relying on muscle memory and fear that whoever is outside is seconds away from breaking into the room to get him there, wrenches open the door, and comes face to face with himself.

Which, huh.

The him in the doorway stares at him for a second, mouth slightly open in shock, like he wasn’t quite expecting to see- whatever Nursey looks like right now. _Ohh_. Nursey might be high.

The him in the doorway seems to shake himself off, before taking a step towards Nursey. “What. Did you. _Do._ ”

Nursey opens his mouth, then closes it. “Apparently… I got really, _really_ high? Like, this is some next-level shit.”

“Fucking hilarious.” Not-Nursey says, storming past Nursey into the room. “You think this is a fucking _joke?!”_

Nursey feels way too sober to be as obviously tripping balls as he is, and he’s kind of starting to freak out a little. “Whoa, chill.” He says, mostly as a reflex at this point, and not entirely sure which him he’s talking to.

Not-Nursey stills, turning to look at him. “I’m going to murder you and your entire family.” Before Nursey has a chance to respond to how terrifying that sounds coming out of his own mouth, Not-Nursey continues, “Nurse. I don’t give a fuck what you did, or how you did it, just give me. My fucking. Body back.”

Whatever he’s on, Nursey decides he doesn’t like it. “Your body? You’re in my body, man. I don’t know you.”

Not-Nursey continues staring at him, chest heaving in anger, and huh. Apparently Nursey looks slightly unhinged when angry. Not-Nursey stomps over to the closet door and swings it open, revealing a mirror on the inside panel. “ _Look_ , you fucking idiot.”

As the mirror bounces against the side of the closet, Nursey comes face to face with the image of William Poindexter, lips parted in shock, face flushed, shirtless, hair soft and sleep-riled, the light from the window giving a golden edge to the copper. It’s a decently good look on him, which sufficiently distracts Nursey from the fact that he’s looking at his own reflection for a good few seconds. 

“Oh, woah.” He says, when he realises, before looking back to… “Dex?”

Not-Nursey- Dex? Dex in Nursey- nope, no, not that, not going down that mental avenue. Dex. _Dex_ rolls his eyes in response. “ _No_ , I’m the fucking tooth fairy.”

“Wha- why? How?” Nursey’s mind begins to process the last couple of minutes within the parameters of the newly acquired information that he and Dex have somehow _switched minds_. “You think _I_ did this?!”

“Well I certainly fucking didn’t.” Dex counters, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “You’re weird as shit, I wouldn’t exactly put _witchcraft_ past you.”

Nursey pauses, eyes narrowing. “I can’t tell if that’s racist or not.”

“How could that _possibly_ be racist.”

Nursey scoffs. “Like, witch-doctors and shit? Like, oh, sure, assume the black guy’s into dark magic and voodoo and-“

“Please stop talking.” Dex says, bringing his hand to his temple. “Please, for the love of fuck, stop talking.”

Nursey shrugs. “Whatever, man, I didn’t do this.” He pauses. “Hashtag freaky friday.”

Another fun fact: apparently, when Derek Nurse is apoplectic with rage, his left eye twitches a little. 

Now, Nursey is not, despite the outward projection he prefers to give off, anywhere nearing a chill person. And waking up having switched minds with the one person who may hate him most in the world is cause for more than a little panic. Maintaining an unfazed exterior is a reflex after all these years, but there’s something that's just genuinely calming about Dex wanting to murder him. It lets a little of the tension out, keeps him from utterly losing his shit about all of this. As long as the mere sound of Nursey’s voice makes Dex want to punch something, nothing can ever go that wrong.

It’s possible they have something of a fucked-up relationship.

 

\---

Sometime after Dex forbids Nursey from speaking for at least five minutes while he processes, Nursey gets directions to the kitchen in Dex’s hall, which is shared between three floors of freshmen and smells like it’d give Bitty a heart attack. Nursey shamelessly shifts through people’s food, figuring it’s an emergency, and finally finds enough camomile tea to make cups for them both, thinking they could both use something calming, before heading back up to Dex’s.

Dex doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood when he gets back, so Nursey sits, and stares. He can’t help it- it’s freaking him the fuck out, watching Dex mutter angrily to himself in _Nursey’s_ body, habitually reaching up to brush away hair that doesn’t exist from where it’s not falling across his forehead, like some nervous tick Nursey’s never had. Oh, he needs to lie down.

“We’re not telling the team.” Dex says, after a while, his hands cupping the mug of tea, and nearly all of his blankets tucked around him- Dex stress cocoons, apparently. “I mean, how would we possibly explain it? They’d all think it was some prank, or that we’d lost our minds-“

“They’d deffo make us kiss.” Nursey agrees, from where he’s sprawled out across Dex roommate’s bed, staring at the cieling. Not that he’d mind, necessarily, how often do you get to kiss yourself, after all. He’s not sure the freak out from Dex would be worth it, though.

“They’d what now.”

Nursey sits up slightly, craning to look Dex in the- slightly twitching- eye. “You know, like, the tried and true body-swap reversal techniques of extended physical contact. Plus, Ransom and Shitty want us to kiss like, all the time.” His face feels a _lot_ warmer than it was a second ago, which is a new and inexplicable sensation.

Dex blinks at him. “…god, I blush a lot.” Oh fuck. White people face. Nursey drops his head back down onto the mattress. “Also, what do you mean _tried and true reversal techniques_.”

“Like, It’s a Boy Girl Thing, Freaky Friday, all that.” Nursey explains. “In movies, they try-“

“In _movies_.” Dex interrupts. “Because this doesn’t happen here, in the real world, where real people live? You do understand that, right?”

“No, teach me, oh wise one.” Nursey drawls. “Also, apparently, it does. Since, you know. We've switched minds."

"Bodies."  Dex corrects.

"What?"

Dex frowns. "No one says they switched 'minds'. You switch bodies."

"Were were literally  _just_ talking about how there's no real-world protocol for this and you're trying to tell me saying 'switched minds' is a faux pas." Nursey scoffs. "Besides, our bodies were right where they should've been, in our own beds.  _Thus_ , our minds were what moved."

"Well it sounds fucking dumb."

Nursey rolls his eyes. "Noted. And I was _trying_ to agree with you, dude. The team doesn’t need to be involved in whatever this is. Think of how much Ransom and Holster would whine that they didn’t get to live as each other for a while.”

Dex snorts back a laugh. Nursey didn’t know he did that. “Think of all the ‘you’re inside Nursey’ jokes.”

Nursey shudders.“Chyeah, no, no way. We keep this on a need-to-know,”

“And _no one_ needs to know.” Dex finishes his thought for him, and it may be the first thing they’ve agreed on in recent memory.

 

\---

After a lot of sitting in silence, processing, both completely at a loss for anything they could do to remedy the situation, they finally decide to camp out in Nursey’s room. Dex’s roommate is gonna come back eventually, after all, and as Dex so kindly pointed out, “Your room’s massive, you don’t have a roommate, and you’ve got a fucking _couch, you-_ no, you know what, I’m just making myself angry.”

Dex spends a couple minutes pulling clothes out of his closet and stuffing them into a bag, absently throwing a shirt at Nursey that hits him in the face. “You’re not putting my body in any of your preppy hipster clothing.” Is all he says on the matter, and Nursey rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. People would definitely notice if they started wearing each other’s clothes everywhere, and besides, if he gets to watch Dex handle a cashmere cardigan, he can deal with some flannel. 

They switch phones- apparently Dex had been woken up that morning by the shrill beeping of a string of incoming practice updates from Jack and Lardo -noises that Nursey happily sleeps through on the regular- and he hands the phone over with a slight grimace that Nursey attributes to it being an iPhone, and Dex being one of Those Android People. “You also got like, forty texts from Shitty at six AM about Goon and compulsory heterosexuality.” He says, with a hint of an eyeroll.

“Oh, sweet.”

When they get back to Nursey’s dorm, they set up the couch with some of Nursey’s spare sheets and blankets, and the knitted blanket Dex had pulled off his bed. Nursey starts clearing space on his desk and in his closet, and helps Dex hang up some of his shirts. They do all of this in silence, which Nursey thinks is probably because Chowder isn’t with them, and they aren’t arguing, and they don’t know how to interact otherwise. Which is kind of pathetic.

“Hey, um, what’s your middle name?”

Dex turns from where he’s been shoving some of his hockey shit in Nursey’s designated ‘hockey shit’ closet. “What?”

Nursey shrugs. “Well, I dunno. I’m trying to get used to the name Dex, and William Poindexter, because it looks like I’m gonna have to answer to them for a while, and I just realised I didn’t know your middle name.”

Dex stares back at him, confused. “There’s no reason for you to?” He says slowly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, right.” So that didn’t work. “Nevermind then.” Nursey turns back to his desk- he hardly ever uses it, prefers working outside or at the Haus or sprawled across his bed, so it’s kind of just a storage area for books, pens, old poems, and anything else he doesn’t have a place for. He’s forgotten what the desk surface looks like.

A few seconds have gone by when Dex says slowly, even hesitantly, “It’s Jacob.”

“Oh, cool. Very biblical.” Nursey says, unearthing a copy of _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ that he thought he’d lost weeks ago. _Score_. “Um, mine’s Malik.”

“Right.” A beat. “Nurse, what the fuck are we gonna do?” He says, in a tone of voice Nursey doesn’t recognise. He’s never heard Dex _desperate_ before.

“Dunno, man.” Nursey answers truthfully, looking back to Dex. “It’ll be a’ight, though.”

Dex rolls his eyes. “You and your endless fucking calm.” He’s frowning a little less aggressively though, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, and Nursey considers he might _need_ Nursey’s calm, just as much as Nursey needs Dex’s rage.

 

\---

They go to afternoon practice, because neither of them particularly want Jack to rip their balls off, and along the way they actually have, like. A conversation. Dex has felt about three steps away from a complete meltdown since he woke up in Nursey’s bed, in Nursey’s fucking _body_ , but Nursey keeps him from going over the edge, somehow. His trademark chill, as fucking annoying as it usually is, is kind of reassuring. He has this certainty that somehow they’ll get back into their old bodies and this will just be some weird thing that happened to them, which stops Dex from dwelling on the fact that this could mean he’s never able to be close to his family again. So, helpful.

As they walked, Nursey had pointed out that while he had Dex’s voice now, he hadn’t inherited Dex’s accent. And when Dex, indignant, replied that he didn’t _have_ an accent, Nursey had put on some weak approximation of Dex’s Maine lilt, to which Dex could only respond with a truly _terrible_ imitation of a New York accent. Nursey had stared at him for a second before they both burst out laughing, cracking up as they walked up the steps to Faber.

Which, okay, is not exactly normal, but he still thinks the way Chowder drops his helmet in shock is a bit of an overreaction. 

Chowder stands, frozen, in the entrance, staring at the two of them. 

“Okay, well.” Nursey clears his throat. “I’m gonna talk to the coaches about that, um, new strategy. We wanted to try.”

Dex whips his head to look at Nursey so fast it’s a miracle he doesn’t break his neck. “The- what?” Okay, sure, they hadn’t talked about it, but surely Nursey’s not gonna ask to practice with different d-men when they’re not in their own bodies? Surely he knows what a fucking _disaster_ that would be?

“You know,” Nursey prompts, eyebrows raised significantly. “About switching sides for drills and plays. Jesus, Nurse, pay attention.”

Oh, right. Because they’re used to playing on a certain side, in certain ways. Dex hadn’t even thought of that. He’s kind of shocked Nursey did, but he nods. “Oh, sure.” Nursey raises an eyebrow, silently prompting, and Dex kind of wants to murder him, but he complies. “Chill,” He grits out, and Nursey’s- well, _Dex’s_ whole face lights up. Nursey winks at him, and it’s Dex’s face doing that aggravating smirk thing that Nursey does sometimes, and Dex will _never_ get used to this.

“Hey, Chowder.” Nursey says, walking past the goalie and into Faber. It seems to unfreeze Chowder, as he looks between the doors to Faber and Dex, obviously confused.

“You- so Dex is okay with you guys being a defence pair again?”

Dex adjusts his bag on his shoulder, trying his best to give off a Nursey vibe as he slouches slightly, thinking of like, fair trade coffee and chakras and leaves and shit. “Chyeah, we talked it out.”

Chowder’s face is a mixture of unadulterated Chowder glee and complete disbelief. It looks painful. “You guys… talked.”

“Yeah?” He nods towards the doors, picking up Chowder’s helmet and tossing it to him as he goes, and Chowder catches it, bewildered, before following him into Faber, unusually quiet for anyone, let alone Chowder.

They’re about halfway down the hallway before Chowder blurts out, “Did you guys hook up?”

Dex trips over his own feet. Which, he supposes, is a very accurate portrayal of Nursey. Chowder puts a hand out to steady him instantly. Goalie reflexes. Or maybe spending-time-with-Nursey reflexes, hard to tell. “What the fuck, Chow.”

Chowder shrugs. “You talked through a problem, you walked to Faber together, you were _laughing. Together_. And you’re talking d-men strategies now? _Hella_ suspicious.” Dex feels his eyes narrow. The team’s tried on multiple occasions to set up a tally of “hellas, ehs, chills and y’alls”, (the 'how much of a stereotype are you' rankings, as Lardo likes to call them) and in response Chowder’s been cutting back on his Bay Areaisms, but Dex always suspected he and Nursey didn’t report infractions when they were alone. “Not that I’m not happy you guys are getting along! Just seemed like it could be a reason.”

“Me and-” Dex cannot, mentally, even comprehend what Chowder thinks is apparently something possible in this realm of reality. “I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.”

Chowder gives him a look that is all too knowing for Dex’s liking. “Whatever you say, Nursey.” Then they’re walking into the locker room, where Shitty’s naked and chasing Jack around, and Bitty and Holster are singing different songs simultaneously at the top of their lungs, and the fact that Dex embraces the chaos of the locker room as a breath of sanity after everything that’s happened that morning is genuinely frightening.

 

\---

They pile into the Haus after practice, because that’s what they do and it’d be weird if they didn’t. Practice which went… well, not as horrible as expected, after they asked the coaches to run each other’s plays. No one’s dead or concussed, anyway, despite all the times Nursey skated into the boards or Dex fell over while trying to stop. They were both off their game in a big way but everyone just assumed they were fighting again, probably. Or hungover. And, sure, the coaches did ask if they should consider checking Dex for brain damage, but, whatever. For the first time in a while, hockey is not Dex’s top priority.

Dex and Nursey sit on opposite sides of the couch with Chowder in the middle, listening to him work himself into a Winter Screw stress frenzy, when they’ve still got _weeks_ to go. Dex blames Bitty. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal but I’d really like someone to go with! But I don’t know who to ask- maybe that girl from Procepro, you know, Adeeqa? She’s pretty, and really nice- remember, Dex? She helped us with equiprobability that one time- oh! Unless you wanted to ask her, that’d be cool too, but then I’d need to think of someone else to ask-“

“Chowder, ch…owder.” Nursey says, and it does Dex’s heart good to see the pained expression on Nursey’s face as he forces himself not to say ‘chill’. “We’ll find you a Screw date, okay? We’re your teammates, it’s our job."

“Aw, thanks Dex.” Chowder says, the smile evident in his voice, before he turns back to Dex, excitedly. “Hey, Nursey, didn’t you say you were thinking of setting up Dex with one of your friends?”

Chowder’s looking at him encouragingly, obviously riding the high of a Dex and Nursey who aren’t actively trying to kill each other. Nursey, on the other hand, looks slightly pained, and Dex is at a loss. He didn’t think Nursey would give half a thought to him at any point in time, nonetheless want to subject one of his friends to Dex at a school-sanctioned event. “Uh, oh, yeah.” He racks his brain, trying to think of the kind of person Nursey would call a friend. “She’s chill, she, uh, she does experimental theatre?” That’s the kind of edgy hipster shit Nursey’s into, Dex is pretty sure. “And she makes her own clothes. Sick, riight?” He tries to let the ‘right’ drag for a second, the way Nursey does. Judging by the sour look Nursey’s giving him, he nailed it.

“Wow!” Chowder says, because he’s from the Bay Area, and grew up around pretentious artsy types.

“That entire sentence was frustrating.” Nursey deadpans, which is probably Nursey’s honest opinion of Dex’s bullshitting someone Nursey would know, but is _definitely_ how Dex would respond to someone who did experimental theatre. They’re getting good at this.

Dex grins at him. “Chyeah, she’s, like, super environmentally and socially responsible? And off the grid. She doesn’t have a cellphone, and like, doesn’t check her email on principle.”

Nursey glares at him. This is so much fun. “What, does she eat bark, too? Is her name Moondust Fairychild?”

“Dex, don’t be mean.” Chowder swats at Nursey’s arm. Nursey’s face in that moment is something Dex will cherish until his dying day. “She sounds really cool, Nursey! How does she, like, turn in assignments though?”

Unfortunately, Dex is kept from further pissing Nursey off by Bitty announcing that there are cookies in the kitchen for anyone who wants them, and then the three of them are too busy nearly toppling the couch as they leap up simultaneously to worry about Winter Screw.

 

\---

It’s a fairly quiet night, as Saturdays at the Haus go, so Nursey and Dex don’t feel guilty about bowing out early. They walk back to Nursey’s together, and it’s weird, because they’re not fighting. They’re talking, and laughing, about their recently acquired teammates. Maybe it’s kind of sad the only thing they have in common is hockey, but at least their team gives them plenty to talk about. By the time Nursey’s unlocking the door to his room, they’ve speculated on the inhuman speed with which Bitty bakes pie, the unexpected depths to Jack, and whether that rumour going around about Lardo having dated a LAX bro her freshman year is true.

Dex supposes they _have_ to get along, or at least try to, because they’re stuck in this together, so he doesn’t pick at Nursey as much, doesn’t call him out when he says he wasn’t really into lacrosse at school, but he did try out for the rowing team, and Nursey doesn’t pick a fight when Dex says Shitty is ‘too much of a pussy to tell Lardo how he feels’, though his cheeks flush a little as he clenches his jaw, and Dex loves seeing someone else unable to hide that they’re irritated. 

It’s not even that late, but waking up in someone else’s body, adjusting to the bit of extra weight of Nursey’s muscle, the slightly different centre of gravity, and the overall feeling of wrongness that comes with being in a body that’s not his- not to mention all the suicides they ran in practice, have taken a lot out of Dex, and Nursey eagerly agrees when he suggest they go to bed early.

“Maybe it’s like, a 24-hour bug.” Nursey says from his bed, staring up at the cieling. “Like we get to try out each other’s lives for a bit, then tomorrow when we wake up we’ll be back to normal.”

“God, I hope so.” Dex huffs, trying to get comfortable on Nursey’s couch. It’s a bit small for his 6’2” form. “Though, I don’t see what the point would be, then.”

He hears Nursey turn over, though whether it’s towards Dex or away from him, he can’t tell. “There’s a point to all this?”

“Well, it’s not like impossible, mystical shit happens all the time, or _ever_ , so it seems like there should be a fucking reason for it.”

“Huh.” Nursey exhales. “That makes an unfortunate amount of sense.”

They fall into silence, then. Well, sort of. Nursey apparently likes music to fall asleep to, which Dex doesn’t mind, but it’s slow and soft and bittersweet and when he actually pays attention to the lyrics, kind of really fucking sad.

“Dude, who broke your heart?” He says quietly, turning to look at where Nursey’s rolled up into a burrito of blankets.

Nursey shifts over in bed, his eyes just poking out over the duvet, the low light coming from outside giving red hair a weird glow. “Hm?”

“The song. This is some deep shit, man, who hurt you?” It would kind of make sense if Nursey was hiding some tragic heartbroken backstory that made him so pissy all the time.

“No one?” Nursey mutters, half asleep already. “I like sad songs. They have the best lyrics.”

_And are really fucking depressing?_ Dex scoffs. “You’re a freak, dude.”

“Right back ‘atcha, Poindexter.” Nursey mumbles, to the sound of more shuffling as he turns over, and leaves Dex with his heartbreak songs and the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are good for the soul, probably. also useful if you want to yell at me for anything [peace sign emoij]


	2. Chapter 2

They don’t switch back the next day. Nursey looks disappointed for most of the morning, but he gives Dex a spare key to his room that afternoon with a resigned smile (“I don't think you’re supposed to have a spare key? Did you even read the student housing contract?” “This is my fourth copy. I dropped the first one in the pond, and a goose swallowed the second.” “… _God_ , how are you a real person.”)

They don’t switch back on Monday, either. 

Dex’s alarm goes off at seven, and he lifts one arm up to the light as he uses the other to silence his phone. Seeing what is definitely not freckled pale skin in the early morning light, he groans in resignation, and slings his legs off the side of the couch. He should have just enough time to go for a run, shower, and then head to Nursey’s nine am.

Why the hell Derek ‘waking up before noon is a mortal sin’ Nurse thought he could take a nine am is _beyond_ Dex, and he honestly expected Nursey to drop it within the first few weeks, given that every time Dex has seen him afterwards he’s been sleep deprived and grumpy as shit. But, and he’s confirmed this with Chowder, Nursey goes every week. He drags himself out of bed for a one hour seminar, so it must be important. A lot of his arguments with Nursey tend to happen mid-Monday mornings, presumably because the class is some kind of liberal hivemind that gets Nursey all empowered and inflated with self-righteousness, so. Should be a fucking hoot.

He feels off as he runs his usual route around campus, which is unsurprising- Nursey seems like a sprinter, where Dex is built for long distance, and he can’t keep his usual pace when he’s in Nursey.

He gets back to the dorm around eight, accidentally slamming the door on his way in and waking Nursey, who makes a startled sleep noise and sits up slightly, fixing Dex with a hard glare, before falling back onto the bed softly and, Dex assumes, immediately going back to sleep. Nursey’s bed-head makes him look like a deranged rooster. Dex almost laughs, before it’s stamped down by a wave of self-consciousness; it is, technically, _his_ bed-head.

Dex takes a shower, and reflects on how, with everything that’s fucking with his head these past few days, at least he’s comfortable doing this. Nursey’s naked body doesn’t shock him, after locker rooms and team showers and a few borderline scarring re-enactments of certain Lonely Island songs by Nursey and Holster. In fact, when he gets out of the shower and stands in front of the mirror, there’s a part of him that prefers seeing Nursey to his own reflection. Nursey has warm, brown skin and more muscle tone than Dex, and that tattoo that Dex initially thought was stupid but finds himself tracing the lines of as he falls asleep. He’s got those green eyes that people fall over themselves for, and can somehow grow stubble without looking like a hobo or a thirteen year old who’s trying too hard. He doesn’t have Dex’s plague of freckles, or his satellite dish ears, or his nose that juts out weirdly and, no matter what his mom says, is still crooked from when he broke it sophomore year of highschool. Nursey is just simply better looking than Dex, no harm in noticing that. Well, to anything but his self-esteem.

He gets to the nine am a few minutes early, having borrowed the schedule taped above Nursey’s desk to find the class, and leaving a post-it note with directions to Dex’s ten am programming class on Nursey’s nightstand. Dex just hopes he won’t be expected to talk- from Chowder’s description it’s a second year course, because Nursey’s ACT scores tested him out of the foundation level English courses (typical), which means Dex will probably be really fucking lost if anyone asks him to comment on like, the deeper metaphorical meaning of some curtains or some shit.

Of course, thirty minutes in to the seminar, the professor turns away from where he’s been writing a borderline unintelligible analysis of _Sir Gawain and the Green Knight_ (Dex has been trying his best to take notes, but secretly thinks the professor is making some of these plot points up), and says, “No input from you today, Mr. Nurse? Brains still rattling from hockey practice?” 

It takes Dex a second to remember that _he’s_ Mr. Nurse. What college professor refers to people by their _last_ name? He looks up, pencil between his teeth. “Hrh?”

“Eloquent.” The professor says, eyebrow raised, sunlight glinting off his bald spot. “We only have so much time in this seminar, Mr. Nurse, so I’m suggesting if you’re going to derail my teaching you do it now, while I still have time to hear the other students’ interpretations that are actually founded in textual evidence.”

“I-” Dex gapes at him. What did Nursey do to piss this guy off? Though honestly, if he had to have Nursey in a class, he’d probably set aside ten minutes for ‘designated Nursey bullshit time’, too. “I’ll let you off easy this time.” He jokes, and the professor- Miller? He thinks? Just frowns at him and returns to garbling on about shit Dex can’t follow.

Towards the back of the class, Dex hears someone snickering, and he looks back to see some girl with an undercut and exaggerated eyeliner, whispering to an equally hipster-looking guy in a beanie with a beard that looks meticulously trimmed. They seem like they’d be friends with Nursey. _At least someone thinks I’m funny_ , he thinks, smirking at the two of them. 

The girl gives him a disdainful look, eyebrows raised, and they start whispering instead.

Maybe not then. Dex turns back to the front of the room, starts scribbling notes to catch up with Miller, but the whispering and giggling doesn’t stop. Dex had his own personal bully from ages thirteen to fifteen, okay? He knows when people are talking about him, and he knows when people are making fun of him. And he doesn’t give a fuck which body he’s in, he’s not gonna stand for that shit.

He gives it five minutes. He lets himself find comfort in finding a kindred spirit in professor Miller, fellow member of the ‘Derek Nurse Is Full Of Shit’ club. Takes deep breaths, focuses on the projections at the front of the room, misspells Gawain four different ways, and after it all, they’re still _fucking_ whispering. He looks back occasionally, and every time he does one of the hipster duo makes eye contact with him and _smirks,_ like they want him to know exactly who they’re talking about. Dex nods to himself, sets his pencil down on the desk, and pushes out his chair. He strides over to the second to last row and grips onto either side of trimmed beard’s desk, bracing himself easily, but imposingly. Even in Nursey, he’s six foot _fucking_ two.

“Hey man,” He says easily. “My hearing’s not good, you had something you wanna say to me?”

“Mr. Nurse!” Miller calls, and Dex considers the possibility that it’s not the greatest idea to be doing this in the middle of a seminar, but fuck it. He’s not afraid of some bald guy with tenure. “Is there a reason you’re not in your seat?”

Dex doesn’t look back at him, just focuses on the alarmed expression on trimmed beard’s face. He tightens his grip, his arms flexing as he does, and it’s an even more threatening gesture in Nursey’s body, more muscular than Dex has ever been, cardigan and all. “Well my friend here had something he wanted to say to me, but I couldn’t hear him.” He grins. “I thought I’d make it easier for him, let him say it to my face.”

From the looks of it, trimmed beard is learning for the first time, through terrified mental imagery, what ‘plays college hockey’ truly means. It’s a beautiful thing to behold.

“Mr. Nurse, take your seat or leave my class. You can talk to Mr. Roberts later.” 

Dex pats the desk and winks at trimmed beard, for good measure. It strikes him as something Nursey would do; he has, in fact, seen Nursey wink at people after checking them into the boards so hard they needed to be helped to their feet afterwards.

As Dex sits back down, Miller glares at him, but Dex shrugs it off. It’s not as if he actually _did_ anything. Just as Miller turns back to the board, starting to ramble about imagery, he hears trimmed beard speak.

“Affirmative action, everyone.” It’s quiet, just quiet enough that Miller doesn’t hear- or pretends not to- but there’s laughter coming from most of the back rows now, not just the hipster duo. 

Dex snaps his pencil.

 

\---

He didn’t think he’d ever say it, but Dex understands Nursey on a new level that morning. He, too, would want to take his anger out on an easy target after an hour of that bullfuckery. And he understands why Nursey hasn’t dropped the class- that’d be admitting defeat. The thing he _doesn’t_ understand is how they’re weeks into term and Nursey hasn’t put the fear of God into the assholes in the back rows.

Dex gets back to Nursey’s dorm, and is distracted enough by the memory of trimmed beard- _Roberts’_ \- smug fucking face that he tries to use his key on Nursey’s door for a solid minute before correcting his mistake.

He walks in, and Nursey’s still in bed.

Dex gently places his backpack on the floor, not wanting to make any noise that might wake him, grabs his pillow from the edge of the couch, walks to the edge of the bed, and whacks Nursey with the pillow as hard as he possibly can.

“Ahrg- wha-” Nursey groans blearily, hands coming up to protect his head as Dex continues hitting him. “The- _fuck_ , man?”

“What-” He hits some part of Nursey’s body wrapped in blankets, possibly his ass. “The-” His back. “ _Fuck_.” His head again. “Nurse?”

“Man, fuck you too!” Nursey pulls the his covers over his head, muffling his words. “Are you always this angry in the morning?”

“You’re supposed to be in _class_ , dipshit!” 

Nursey doesn’t come out from under his blankets. “You think I’m going to class looking like this? Oh hey guys, it’s me Nursey, don’t mind me I’m just white for the week, it’ll wear off-”

It’s possible Dex actually growls in frustration. “Not your class, asshole, _mine._ My ten am programming class?”

Nursey’s head lifts up above the blanket, eyes incredulous. “Sorry, when did we discuss this?”

“I didn’t think we had to!”

“So lemme get this straight.” Nursey sits up in bed, newly acquired red hair fluffing out at all angles. “You bludgeon me into consciousness because I didn’t do something you _didn’t tell me_ I’d need to do?”

Dex rolls his eyes, flopping down onto the couch. “It’s a pillow, Nursey, not a baseball bat.”

“How was I supposed to even know what classes you have? Or where they are?”

“I left you a note, asshat.” He gestures aggressively towards the nightstand, and Nursey’s eyes follow the movement.

“Huh, so you did. Right.” Nursey rubs at his eyes. “Do we not maybe think, given the circumstances, we can call in sick this week?”

“I have perfect attendance.”

“Your sacrifice has been noted.”

Dex flings the pillow at Nursey’s head, unsurprised when Nursey catches it with a sleepy grin. “My scholarship is dependant on academic standing and attendance gets factored in for every one of my classes. You’re going.” Nursey groans and shuts his eyes tight, head thumping back against the wall. It shuffles a leaf loose from Nursey’s hair and onto the pillow under him. “Shitting fuck, Nurse- how are you getting leaves in my hair _indoors_?”

Nursey doesn’t lift his head or open his eyes, just points upwards, towards a large, leafy plant hanging from his stupidly high ceiling that Dex either never noticed before or has been subconsciously ignoring the existence of to preserve his sanity.

“Why,” Dex rubs his temples. “Did you hang a plant. _Directly_ above your head?”

Nursey hums thoughtfully. "I like waking up and seeing life.” Dex groans in exasperation. “The leaves are a small price to pay.” He lets a few seconds pass by, as if waiting for a response. Tilting his head up, Nursey raises an eyebrow. “Dex?”

“I’m imagining it falling on you, killing you instantly. It’s helping.”

“Whatever does it for you, man.” Nursey throws the blankets off his body, stretching out lazily before he stops, one arm in the air. “Wait. Does this mean you went to my nine am?”

“ _Obviously_.”

Nursey nods, slowly. “…how was it?” 

“Aggravating, honestly.” Dex answers, as Nursey continues stretching. He’s like a fucking cat. “By the way, what did you do to make half the people in there hate you?”

Nursey chuckles, sighing. “Nothing, man. Absolutely nothing.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” Dex rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter though, I think I scared the shit out of one of them, you should’ve seen his…” Normal Nursey’s face tends to border on unreadable. With Dex’s complexion, on the other hand, Dex can see the blood drain out of his face. “Um, you okay?”

“What the hell did you do.” Nursey’s voice is calm, and eerily similar to Dex’s mom when she’s deciding just how mad she wants to be. “Dex, what did you do.”

Dex thinks he honestly spends half his life rolling his eyes at Nursey. “I didn’t beat him up or anything, Jesus, just rattled him a little-”

“Fuck.” Nursey interrupts, shoving his hands into his hair. “ _Fuck_.” He inhales, exhales. “Okay, Dex.” He says almost condescendingly, palms pressed together and lifted to his lips. “Did you happen to notice any other people of colour in the class?”

Dex frowns. “What does that have to do with anyth-“

“They’re _racist_ , Dex!” Nursey pushes himself off the bed and onto his feet. And, okay, yeah, Dex could’ve probably figured that out. “They’re a bunch of pretentious, bigoted, mason jar carrying, gentrifying, intellectual fucking _racists_ , and Professor Miller is just a dyed in the wool old-school racist, and you just gave them ammunition, you- fuck.” He stills. “Oh _fuck._ ” Nursey stares at Dex, looking almost _scared_. “You don’t know how to be black.”

“Excuse me?”

Nursey presses the palms of his hands to his eyes and groans. “You. Don’t know. How to be a six-something black hockey player in America.” He looks at Dex, then groans again. “God, and you have _anger issues_.”

Dex is officially lost. “Dude, what the fuck.”

“Okay.” Nursey’s nodding to himself again. He sits down on the bed, arms braced on his legs, and stares at Dex. “Okay, okay. Ground rules. Don’t call people out on racist shit, you don’t know how to judge your environment. Don’t rise to anyone’s bait. Don’t start fights. _Don’t_ start saying the ’n’ word just ‘cause you’re technically black now- seriously, I’ll kick your ass- don’t, like, lash out- for the love of god don’t get _arrested-”_

“Nurse.” Dex interrupts, trying to process. He’s never heard Nursey ramble before. “What the _fuck_ do you think I’m gonna do to get _arrested_.”

“I don’t know, okay, but it doesn’t take much. And I’m fairly sure if your mind gets killed while in my body, we’ll both die. Or I’ll be stuck white and ginger forever and that might be worse. No offence.” Nursey adds, when Dex makes a face. “Just please, _please_ don’t get in any fights, okay? It just makes it easy for them.”

Dex stares at him. “Okay, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to chill the fuck out. I’ve lived a very long time without being arrested or killed, I’m sure I can manage a few more days.”

“You’ve lived as a _white guy_. You get away with shit we don’t.”

"Oh, give me a _break_." Groaning, Dex lets his head fall into his hands. “Why is everything about race with you?”

“Gee, I dunno, William.” Nursey says, in his asshole voice. “Maybe because _everything’s about race_?” He stands up again, stomping over to his closet, and stumbles over his shirt that’s been left on the floor, before kicking it away. “I’m taking a fucking shower, leave me your class schedule and get the fuck out. If you’re still here in twenty, I’m throwing every blunt object I own directly at your fucking head.”

Dex flips him off, waits for Nursey to get into his ensuite (asshole) before following his instructions, and slams the door on his way out. He’s in _desperate_ need of a pick-me-up.

 

\---

Chowder opens the door almost as soon as Dex knocks, a questioning smile on his face. “Nursey, hey, I expected you to be waiting for me when I got back- I made a boba run!” He says, voice tinged with excitement, before gesturing for Dex to come in.

“Oh, sorry man- were we supposed to meet up?” Dex shrugs off Nursey’s jacket and tosses it over Chowder’s desk chair, nodding slightly in greeting to Chowder’s roommate, who completely ignores him in favour of playing some shooting game on his laptop. Dex immediately relaxes when he sees the frankly shocking amount of teal on Chowder’s side of the room, and he’s not sure when he started associating an overabundance of Sharks merchandise with happiness, but he suspects it’s part of Chowder’s conversion technique. 

“Nah, not really.” Chowder replies easily, picking up a plastic cup filled with green liquid and black balls, otherwise known as the (hipster as fuck) boba tea only Chowder and Nursey seem to enjoy. He hands it to Dex with a smile, and Dex tries his best not to grimace as he accepts it. The two of them sit down on Chowder’s bed, Chowder cross-legged as he reaches for his own tea. “But you usually need to vent after your nine-am, and I thought you might like a pick-me-up this time.”

Ugh, Dex is gonna have to drink the tea isn’t he. “Wow, thanks, Chowder.” He takes a sip, and at least it’s not like, dirty-shot nasty. Wouldn’t be Dex’s first choice, but.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d rather have one of the sweeter ones, but you said once about green tea calming you down, so I hope it’s okay.”

If there’s a sweet alternative of this, Dex is pretty fucking sure he’d prefer it, but he’s not gonna be a dick about it. “No, it’s great, thanks man.”

“So, where’ve you been?” Chowder says, sipping from his tea, and when Dex feels his brow furrow in confusion, Chowder flushes, slightly. “Sorry, that was creepy. Just, your class got out like forty-five minutes ago and you’re just getting here _now_ , so. Just wonderin’.” His voice gets sing-songy at the end, and he kind of sways with it, and Dex smiles in response. Chowder’s adorable.

“Oh, um.” Dex wonders if maybe he should lie, but it’s not like Chowder’s never had to mediate for them before. “I saw- Dex, actually.”

Chowder winces. “After racist nine-am? How’d _that_ go?” He says lightly, but his smile falters after Dex just silently sips at his tea, feeling guilty. “Oh, _c’mon_ , you guys were getting along!”

“It’s not my fault!” He says, indignantly, before realising that’s maybe too much of a reaction for Nursey. “I mean, it’s whatever. That stick up his ass has taken up permanent residence, it’s a lost cause.”

Chowder sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I keep _trying_ to tell you, no good is coming out of you antagonising Dex, you’re just going round in circles. And you _know_ Dex isn’t a bad person, so it’s just kind of- unnecessary?” Dex fights back a smile; at least Chowder’s on his side. “It’s not his fault he’s sheltered and a little ignorant, you know the environment he comes from.” _Well_ then. An uneasy feeling stirs in Dex’s gut.

“Uh.” Dex opens his mouth, then closes it again. Okay. This is Chowder. Chowder, infinitely nicer and less aggravating than Nursey, and therefore easier to talk to about this- whatever he’s apparently missing. “He just doesn’t understand why N- why _I_ keep saying he has privilege, because my parents have so much money it’s like, the definition of privilege.’

Chowder shrugs. “Like I said, sheltered. When exactly do you think his all-white small town made it clear that racial privilege runs deeper and is more complicated than financial stability?” He laughs, softly. “He probably thinks there’s nothing wrong with the ‘all lives matter’ hashtag, if you know what I mean.” _Well, they do?_ Dex thinks, but doesn’t say.

It’s really weird, hearing Chowder talk about this stuff, about Dex. He kind of assumed Nursey was the only one who had a problem with him, and he never minded pissing Nursey off. 

“Doesn’t it bother you? The way Dex is?” Dex asks, hesitantly. It's not like he wants to alienate his friends and teammates. Well, except maybe Nursey, but he’s pretty sure he’s stuck with that one.

Chowder pauses for a second, considering. “Sometimes I think there are like, hella good white people and average white people.” Chowder says, face scrunched in thought. “Like, Shitty. He’s like, always ready to drop his gloves and use his whiteness to try to make a difference. He can get a little preachy, but otherwise, top-tier white person. Then there are just… okay white people. They’re not _actively_ racist, but you don’t really feel comfortable talking about race issues with them, because they don’t get it, and they’re never gonna try to get it.”

“And Dex is in the second category.”

Chowder laughs. “I mean, he’s not exactly the first person I’m gonna talk to about how hard it is to play in such a white sport, or how guilty I feel about not speaking Chinese, or anything.” He pushes Dex with his shoulder playfully. “Unlike you, Mr. ‘lemme talk to our resident small-town Maine white boy about micro-agressions’.”

“I guess-“ Dex swallows. “I guess he just doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal, why everything has to be about race.”

Chowder hums. “Yeah, sounds about right. It’s like- what did Lardo say the other day? About that art project her friend was doing, were you there when she was talking about it?” Dex shakes his head slightly in response. “Hm. Well it was something like white people are so used to being seen as the standard that they forget about being white? So like, not everything’s about race for them, because they can forget about it. It’s never… dangerous. For them to forget. So they do. And then they get annoyed at us for bringing it up so much, because they don’t realise it’s in everything we do.”

Dex is taken aback. He’s never heard Chowder, or Lardo, or anyone other than Nursey talk about race at length, or at _all._ He’s starting to wonder if they deliberately exclude him from those sorts of conversations. Not that he’d blame them if they did, really. “But you- you still wanna be friends with him?”

“Yeah, of course,” Chowder smiles at him. “He’s not like, actively a bigot. No use throwing away a good friend and teammate just because he’s a bit close-minded. Besides, it’s Samwell. He’ll learn eventually.” Chowder pauses, then when Dex doesn't respond, raises an eyebrow. "You feeling okay, Nursey?"

"Huh?" Dex blinks, and feels himself nod. He thinks maybe he needs time to process some things. "Yea- chyeah, why?"

Chowder looks at him knowingly. "Well, I think this may be the first time we've _actually_ had a conversation about Dex. Or, y'know, one where you don't refuse to talk about him because you reserve the right to kill him one day and don't want to make me an accessory. That's a direct quote."

Dex has to laugh at that- good to know he and Nursey are on the same page. "I'm tired, give me a break." Dex shrugs off his words, but the look in Chowder's eyes doesn't go away. “Enough about Dex, though, like- how’s the hunt for a Screw date coming?”

Chowder’s smile doubles in size and he’s off, talking about how Holster and Ransom have made a list but he’s not sure if he blindly trusts their judgment, and how he’s been weighing the pros and cons of asking Bitty for help, and Dex just leans back, hugs Chowder’s shark plushie to his chest, and listens.

 

\---

Over the next couple of days, Dex and Nursey work out a system. They don’t talk about the race thing again; Nursey knows a lost cause when he sees it, but he does make a mental note to specially request that all of Dex's professors start calling him 'Bill', just because he's petty like that.

After Dex makes some compelling points (“what _else_ are we gonna do with our time”), they agree to keep each other’s attendance in good standing. They go to lectures as themselves, since it’s not like anyone cares who’s in a lecture hall or not, and they can sign in just fine in someone else’s body. They prep each other for seminars after Chowder catches Nursey scrolling through Instagram in procepro (Procedural Programming), with Nursey writing extensive notes for Dex to follow along with in literary discussions, as well as argument points to bring up in case he’s called to speak, and Dex teaching Nursey some rudimentary code so he’ll have _something_ to do.

It's much less of an event than he thought it would be. Waking up as someone else seems like it should be world-rocking, but Nursey still has homework, and practice, and the only thing that majorly changes is how many times a day Dex threatens his life. They settle into a routine, and go about their lives. It's weird, and Nursey has to consciously remind himself that to the rest of the world he's _Dex_ , but other than that it, it's less annoying than having a cold. Incidentally, Nursey actually trips over himself much less often when he's not in his own body, which he can't begin to explain (probably a result of him being so _very_ aware of the differences in his and Dex's bodies and the way they move) but is grateful for.

After the fourth day of being stuck in each other’s bodies, Nursey goes out and buys an air mattress, because they’re both 6’2, so regardless of which body they’re in they don’t have any business sleeping on a couch, and Dex mentioned he was starting to get a crick in his neck. He tosses the box at Dex when he gets home, familiar with the procedure of showing someone you were thinking about them in a bro-y, no-homo kind of way, and huffs, “The sound of you trying to get comfortable on that couch is literally louder than my alarm.”

“How much did this set you back?” Dex says, slowly.

Nursey waves him off. “I’m gonna need it if my friends back home ever come down, I’ve been meaning to buy one for forever, don’t trip.” His friends from New York are just as snobby as Nursey is self-aware enough to admit he can (sometimes) be, so he did some research and bought the best one around. Dex would probably lose his mind if he knew how much it cost.

“Well.” Dex looks half-pained. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No thanks necessary.” 

Things get better, then. Before they switched minds, Nursey’s singular text interaction with Dex was a text he sent his very first week at Samwell, a simple, ‘hey when’s practice?’, and Dex’s curt response, ‘No idea. Text Larissa.’ and then absolutely fuck all. Now, however, Dex is lighting up Nursey’s phone like a discoball, every time he has a question about Nursey’s coursework or a snide comment about hipsters, or as Dex calls them, the eleventh plague.

**_[from: get out of my head]_ ** _The great American novel. Discuss._

**_[to: get out of my head]_ ** _some white bullshit_

**_[from: get out of my head]_ ** _Oh good thanks I’ll lead with that, then._

  
Nursey snorts back a laugh, spinning slightly in his chair.

“ _Who_ are you _texting_ instead of _dying_ in language syntax hell with _me_ like a good friend.” Chowder whines, but with a smile, from where he's sat next to Nursey. He's been glaring at his screen for at least ten minutes, and it's not quite the death glare he gives opposing teams from the crease, but it's close.

Nursey shrugs, as he types out a response appropriately critical of literary canon. “Just Nursey.”

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re smiling.”

“Am I?” Nursey looks up from his phone again, into Chowder’s _very_ suspicious eyes. He rolls his eyes. “C, chill. He said something funny about Ransom and Holster, what, am I not allowed to laugh?”

Chowder’s eyes narrow for a second, before he huffs. “Not in here, you’re not. Procepro is where happiness goes to _die._ ” He spins, dramatically, in his chair, and lets his head fall down to the table with a thud. He groans, and Nursey feels a little bad; he's not sure if Dex is usually helpful in these situations, but Nursey knows with certainty that he will be functionally useless if he tries to advise Chowder on programming, so he lets him wallow.

The weirdest part of the whole thing happens when Nursey zones out, amused by thoughts of Dex getting slowly more and more exasperated with English Lit, his fingers tapping absently on the keyboard, and when Chowder snaps him out of it, he’s written new lines of code. That he doesn’t understand, obviously, but he sends a copy of them to Dex, who says they’re really simple, standard lines, the likes of which Dex has written a million times. So Nursey doesn’t know anything about coding, but thanks to what Nursey assumes is muscle memory, Dex’s _hands_ do.

He spends about half an hour trying to figure out if he thinks that’s cool or mildly horrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter this time, full of fun lighthearted topics like racism, microaggressions, and convincing yourself that liking the look of your friend when he's half naked more than that of your own body is a self-esteem thing, not an attraction thing, haha no homo
> 
> and can i just say- holy shit i was _blown away_ by the responses to this fic??? all of the comments have been so lovely and i've loved reading every single one of them and i'm glad you guys enjoy what i'm doing in this behemoth of an au  
>  and honestly the tweet reference was 100% a self-indulgent little thing i added, thinking only i would get a kick out of it, and you have no idea how happy it made me that people picked up on it- way to validate, you guys
> 
> i updated the description but i'll say it here as well: **this fic updates every four days**  
>  why? because it seemed like a nice, even number and that means the fic will post over the course of just a bit less than a month which seems reasonable so that means there'll be an update on the 19th (today), 23rd, 27th, 31st, 4th, and finally the last chapter on the 8th!
> 
> thanks again for all the positive reviews, sorry we have to get into the unfun stuff before the romantic stuff but lbh these boys have Some Issues they need to resolve before romancing of any kind can occur


	3. Chapter 3

Dex has, apparently, inadvertently married Nursey, judging by the sheer amount of time they spend together. He wakes up to Nursey muttering in his sleep, goes to bed listening to Nursey’s sad-sack music. They eat breakfast together, practice together, go over each other’s seminars while sharing takeaway, fuck, they have a bathroom _routine_. It’s just easier to maintain a near-constant proximity, makes the whole thing a little less disorienting. More than once Dex catches himself staring at Ransom and Holster, wondering if _they_ switched bodies first year and just never got out of the habit of orbiting each other- he talks himself out of asking because, you know, it would sound fucking insane.

This does mean, unfortunately, that he’s pulled onto various Quads with infuriating frequency to work in a fucking leaf pile, because that’s apparently where Nursey is his most productive. At least it’s a nice day, and Dex can’t say the fresh air doesn’t help him concentrate, a little.

“Do you know anything about the Stanford prison experiment?”

Nursey looks up from his notes, curious. “Um, yeah… why?”

Dex shrugs. “Someone mentioned it in your sociology seminar, I thought it could go on the list?” The list is comprised of Nursey’s notes, points for Dex to make in the seminar. It’s exhaustive, and Nursey’s handwriting is a mixture of what he thinks his writing should look like and what Dex’s hands want to do, so half illegible, but it keeps Dex from floundering for an hour three times a week.

Nursey opens, then closes his mouth. “Yeahh… I think maybe you should stick to more neutral topics?”

Dex frowns in confusion. “Wait, what’s the experiment?”

“It’s just this…” Nursey huffs. “It was a study of privileged white men, that’s been lauded by sociologists for revealing the nature of humanity, failing to take into account that of course privileged white men are going to abuse their power, and it's _much_ more interesting when you take it as a critique of perceived power anyway-“ He takes a breath. “Dude, I’m not gonna give you a script that criticises the institution of white men as the standard, and I don’t feel comfortable with you talking about it, in my body, otherwise.”

“Ah.” Dex says. “Well, I’ve been thinking, actually, and-“

“Holy shit.” Nursey interrupts, staring past Dex’s left ear. “Shit, okay, be cool.”

“What? Why?” Oh crap, there’s a spider on Dex, isn’t there. He wills himself to be perfectly still.

“Be cool okay? Just- how’s my hair.” Nursey’s ears have gone bright pink, and Dex genuinely _flinches_ in confusion. “How’s my _hair_?”

Okay, Dex has no idea what the fuck is going on. “Um… ginger?” Dex says, slowly.

Nursey blinks. Once, twice. Then his whole body sort of twitches, finally looking directly at Dex, panic clear in his eyes. “Fuck, I’m _you!”_

“I’m… aware?”

“Fuck, okay.” Nursey nods. “Okay, there’s a guy walking this way. His name is Adrián,” He enunciates, slowly, distinctly Spanish-sounding. “Don’t pronounce it like Adrian, I know him from the Mexican heritage society, be nice, don’t embarrass me or I swear to god I’ll get Hillary Clinton’s face tattooed on your ass.”

“Oh my god.” It clicks. “Oh my _god_ , are you genuinely a sixteen year old girl right now-“

He’s cut off from watching the mixture of terror and annoyance on Nursey’s face by a voice behind him. “Derek?”

Oh, Nursey owes him _big time_. Dex turns and sees- okay, yeah. Fair play, Nursey. The guy’s hot. If you’re into guys with hair past their ears and sculpted jawlines, which apparently Nursey is. Looks like a hipster, too, if the floral bomber jacket is anything to go by. “Adrián!” He does his best with the pronunciation, but he took (and failed) French in high school, okay?

“Hey, I thought it was you.” Adrián smiles. Nursey makes a little helpless noise from behind Dex, and Adrián looks past where he was _definitely_ checking Dex (Nursey’s body) out. “Oh, hey, and this must be your…?”

“Teammate!” Nursey nearly _falls over_ in his eagerness to answer. His face is a very attractive shade of tomato that really compliments his complete failure as a human being. “Very, definitely straight hockey teammate. I have a girlfriend. I only date women.”

Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph.

Dex forces out a decently casual-sounding chuckle. “Adrián, this is my defence partner, Dex.” He gestures between them. “Dex, this is Adrián. He’s in the Mexican heritage society with me.” Also, since when is Nursey Mexican?

“Oh, hey.” Adrián nods in greeting, and to his credit he only looks a little weirded out when Nursey makes this strange, panicked smile-grimace in return. “I always forget you’re on the hockey team.” He smiles, hesitantly. “It’s kind of… infamous.”

“Yeah, we have a bit of a reputation.” Dex smirks, feeling strangely confident. “We can get a little rowdy, but we’re more bark than bite. We just _happen_ to bark louder than anyone else on campus.”

Adrián laughs appreciatively. “Good to know.”

“Hey, you should come to a game sometime, show your Samwell spirit.” Dex says, definitely emboldened by what he knows Adrián is seeing, attractive smirk on Nursey’s full lips and mischievous glint to Nursey’s eyes. Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance. “Bet you look good in crimson.”

Adrián nods, looking a little dazed. This is the most fun Dex has had in ages. “Yeah,” His face breaks into a wide smile. “Yeah, maybe I will. Um, I gotta-“ He gestures, and Dex nods.

“No worries, I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely.” Adrián nods, then finally looks away, to where Nursey is sitting. “Nice to meet you, um, Dex?”

“Uh-huh.” Nursey mutters, with the distinct look of a man who has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Adrian walks away with one last smile at Dex, and as soon as he’s out of earshot, Dex whips back around to Nursey, absolutely _ecstatic_. Nursey looks like someone’s finally taken the initiative and punched him in the face.

“ _Dude._ ” Dex is _beaming_. This is enough chirping ammunition to last him until graduation, at least. “‘ _I only date women_ ’?”

“I… panicked.”

“That was _horrifically_ clear.”

Nursey gapes at him. “What the- what the fuck was that?”

“Well, let’s see: your brain stopped working, my fourteen year old sister has more game than you, and if that guy wasn’t down to bone you before, he definitely is now.” Dex is so smug. He makes a mental note to stay close enough to Nursey in the future to be invited to his wedding; Dex will be including this anecdote in his toast. “You’re welcome.”

“You… flirted with Adrián.” Nursey says, then clarifies. “You _flirted_ with a human male.”

“And _you_ are welcome.” Dex picks up his pen, then reconsiders. He’s riding a high, why quit now. “Like, you looked like you were gonna hyperventilate, it was that bad. Is this how you act every time you’re into someone? No wonder you never get laid. Also, since when are you Mexican?”

“Since birth. On my mom’s side.” Nursey murmurs, voice far-away.

“Dude, you owe me _so hard_.” Dex repeats, still grinning, and Nursey just sort of distractedly hums his acknowledgment.

\--- 

Since the switch, Dex finds himself learning a lot of things about Nursey. They range from the fact that Nursey is, apparently, attractive enough that Dex hasn’t ordered a single coffee all week without it coming with a phone number written along the side, to the realisation that Nursey is so much smarter than Dex originally thought, but being in his body also comes with issues Dex isn’t prepared for.

The shitty stuff starts with the nine am lecture, but doesn’t stop there. Around halfway through the weekend, Dex started getting fidgety, and noticed that Nursey had a couple of shelves that need straightening, and his sink leaked a little. So he grabbed his toolbox from his room, and headed to the familiar hardware store a couple blocks from campus. He likes hands-on things, sue him, so he’s been in the store a lot and is friendly with the owner, a forty-something Massachusetts native named Mikey with a beer belly and a Thing about fly-fishing.

Mikey was. A lot less friendly when he walked in as Derek Nurse. He followed him around the store, aggressively asking if he needed help with anything as Dex compared prices on multimeters (which he’ll need if he’s gonna recalibrate the temperature of the Haus oven), and just made Dex feel _really_ uncomfortable, like he’d done something wrong. He spent about twenty minutes wondering what prompted such a massive change in a usually almost _overly_  friendly storeowner before he realised. When he got back to Nursey’s, he googled other hardware stores in the area, for the next time he needed something.

And Mikey isn’t the only thing. He’s a big one, but there's a lot of little things too, comments and looks people give him, and girls in lectures shielding their purses from him when he sits down, and people glancing at him warily before they talk about the school-to-prison pipeline in Nursey’s sociology class, as if saying the word ‘black’ is gonna make him lose control or start hitting them or something, and people he’s pretty sure Nursey has never met coming up to him asking if he has a weed hookup, all this shit _day_ after _day_. And it’s annoying but, whatever, he’s not gonna fucking complain about a few days of something Nursey deals with every day of his life. So Dex is a white guy experiencing racism for the first time, he should write a fucking Buzzfeed article. If anything, he’s glad Nursey gets a few days where he doesn’t have to deal with this shit.

One morning, he runs into Ransom at the gym, lifting light weights in front of a mirror, alone, which is remarkable for two reasons: the first is that seeing Ransom without Holster is like seeing Chowder without a smile on his face, and the second is that there's not a swooning fan in sight. Maybe the stalkers Dex is confident Ransom has haven't clocked onto his morning workout routine.

"Nursey!" Ransom calls when he enters, not pausing his bicep curls. "Broseph Gordon Levitt, you are up _unspeakably_ early."

Dex nods in his direction. "Same to you."

Ransom shrugs. "Gotta keep it tight."

"Holster?"

"Some shit."

Great, very informative, Rans. Dex supposes this is the part where Nursey nods sagely and doesn't ask for clarification, but like, that's not a fucking answer, is it. Dex resists the urge to say something, opting instead to grab a couple of weights from the rack and head back to Ransom's spot- can't have Nursey's precious biceps losing definition- and settling down on the bench next to him. They work out silently next to each other for a few minutes, shitty pop blaring through the gym speakers, before Dex works up the nerve to look over. Dex's social circle at this point more or less starts and ends with the hockey team, which means he's close to two black men at Samwell, full stop. And talking to Nursey about race tends to end in shouting matches, so if he's gonna broach the subject, he should probably do so with Ransom first. He just has to do so as Nursey, because nothing in life is ever easy, apparently. At least Dex can be confident that if nothing else, once a topic has been presented, Ransom and Holster are always ready to talk. At length.

"So, um. Rans." Dex clears his throat. "I've been thinking about, uh. Being black, you know, at Samwell."

Ransom immediately looks up at him. "Did something happen?" There's a gravity to his tone Dex has never heard off the ice.

"What? No, nothing."

"You sure?" Concern is etched into his face as he studies Dex. "Bro, you can tell me."

Dex really regrets bringing the topic up at all, now that Ransom's worried something... _something_ happened to Nursey, but there's no turning back now. "No, man, I just- wanted to talk about it. You know."

Ransom seems to understand, and he nods. "Without being surrounded by white boys? I getcha." He raises his eyebrow. "And you're  _sure_ nothing prompted this."

"Well," Dex goes for the easy out. "You know, the usual shit with Dex."

" _Ah_." Ransom nods, and Dex wasn't aware just how much Ransom had tensed until he sees him relax again- Dex has heard horror stories of what he's like during exams, but seeing him this keyed up outside of exam stress and the rink is... telling.

"Yeah, um, he just... there's so much little shit, you know? That people like Dex don't take into account," Dex exhales; this is so  _ridiculously_ uncomfortable, but he trudges on. "That piles up, every day, and it's just- does it ever feel like, suffocating?"

Ransom looks away from him at last. "Sometimes." 

"So you get the little shit, too."

Ransom scoffs. "You mean, like accidentally falling asleep and staying in the library past closing hours, and the staff calling security to search me and escort me out because they thought I was homeless and potentially violent? Or being asked if I'm in the right place at least once a semester when I get a new bio lecturer." Ransom frowns. "Or when people talk about moving to Canada to escape America's racism, since everyone's so goddamn nice in Canada, right? They don't have racism in  _Canada,_ they're too nice for that, so I guess every time I thought someone was being a dick to me or my sisters or my parents because we're Nigerian, I was just overreacting, right? Not to mention Canada's treatment of the _indigenous_ population-" His rising voice echoes a little in the empty room, and he exhales heavily. "Sorry, ranting."

"Nah, it's." Dex swallows. "Chill."

Ransom huffs out a laugh. "I guess you could say it gets suffocating, occasionally." He looks at Dex with smile, which is surprising shift in the mood. "But bro, so, right, when Lardo started working for the team, a couple weeks in, she was just finding her feet -only really talked to Shitty and Jack- when one day, one of the seniors said something about me that, like- I honestly don't even remember what it was now other than _racist._  And, bro, I was just a frog, and it's always harder to call people out on shit when you want them to like you, and anyway, I just let it drop but  _somehow_ he didn't get the email about practice time changing the next day, and he already had a shitty attendance record, apparently, because he had to bag skate afterwards for missing half of practice. Also, his helmet had a wad of chewed up gum in it, so they had to chop most of his flow. And, like, afterwards, Lardo asked me to help her with some stuff in the equipment room, and we talked about being first-gen, and she gave me some candy her grandma had sent her. From that day on we just- had each others' backs, and I had someone to talk to about all the little shit.  _And_ I found out she could drink me under the table, and thus an _epic_ friendship was born."

Ransom chuckles, remembering. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that you've got Chowder, you've got Lardo, and you've got me. We  _get_ it. We're here for you when shit gets heavy. And, bro, I don't even know who that asshole senior _was_ at this point. I know you're a d-man pair, but give it a couple years after Samwell and you probably won't even remember Dex's name. Sometimes people on your team become your family, and sometimes they're just people on your team. If Dex doesn't see race or whatever, you don't have to be his best friend, you just gotta play with him." Random shakes his head, slowly, shrugging, "You gotta give up on lost causes eventually, bro. But you let me know if he pulls any shit, alright?"

"I-" Dex swallows roughly. "Yeah man, for sure. Thanks."

"S'what I'm here for, little bro." Ransom says with a smile. 

After that, Dex _knows_ he's fucked up; if Ransom thinks of him as someone to be _forgotten_ , he's doing something wrong. He spends a good part of his day, every day, thinking about how to apologise to Nursey for all their stupid ‘privilege’ fights. He’s all too ready to admit there’s shit Nursey (and Ransom, and Chowder, and Lardo) has to deal with that Dex has never considered before, and he owes it to his teammates and friends to start listening to their perspectives on things, and stop convincing himself racism is over because everyone can vote and use the same water fountains. He chickens out every time he tries to talk to Nursey about it though, because nothing he wants to say sounds like enough, or like it’ll come out the right way. Most options sound a bit too much like ‘I didn’t notice or care about these things until they started happening to me’, which he can admit is basically true, but won’t exactly paint Dex in the best light. So Dex keeps putting it off, though he knows he’ll have to say something eventually. Maybe he’ll ask Shitty for advice, once they’re back in their own bodies.

 

\---

They encounter their first real problem on Friday. Honestly, Nursey thought Dex noticing his massive crush on Adrián, and having to _interact_ with him, would be much more of a problem than it was, but the only issues that come from that little experience are the mild aneurysm Nursey experiences and Dex chirping the fuck out of him for six hours straight. No, the real problem starts with team breakfast, because of course it does.

Nursey and Dex split their arrival times by a few minutes, knowing the team would _definitely_ notice if they arrived together, spend a couple minutes arguing in harsh whispers about the other’s food choices (“Dude. Oatmeal is so white and bland I think you eating it technically qualifies as cannibalism.” “You’re hilarious, put down the syrup, I don’t need anywhere near the amount of sugar you regularly ingest in my body.” “What if I stabbed you with my fork? Is that what you want in your body?”), and fight about who gets to sit in the empty seat next to Chowder, and who has to sit next to Jack and listen to him review history notes. But they do that silently, because they both have a healthy amount of fear of their captain.

In the end, Nursey loses and sits down next to Jack 'good luck figuring out if I’m trying to intimidate you with my knowledge of Roman infantry tactics' Zimmermann, who seems to be fighting with Bitty about _his_ breakfast, too. 

“Morning Dex.” Jack nods at him, as he tries to push sausages onto Bitty’s plate. 

“Morning.” He says, and nods to Holster on the other side of him.

“Sup, man.” Holster taps a boiled egg with a spoon, and without looking up says. “Hey, new phone. Sa-weet.” Nursey’s kind of impressed at his peripheral vision.

But also, he’s holding his _own_ phone, in _Dex’s_ hands. “Uh…” Nursey looks down to the gold iPhone, which he purchased because he likes the way it looks and doesn’t have to explain shit. “I..?” Bitty leans over the table to look over at Nursey, which is the precise moment that he loses all hope of not making a big deal out of this.

“Is that the same one as Nursey’s?”

Bitty’s voice draws Chowder’s attention from where he’s talking to Dex, and he looks across the table, bewildered. “Dex, are you… voluntarily holding an iPhone?”

“ _No._ ” Says, well, Dex. From Nursey’s body, which means everyone listening turns to look at him. Nursey gives him a look, and Dex seems to realise his mistake. “Uh, he stole my phone?”

Nursey’s eyes widen in irritation. _Way to throw me under the bus, Poindexter_. “Only because you took mine!”

There’s a _palpable_ eye roll from everyone in attendance. Bitty lets out a long-suffering sigh and stands up, holding his hand out to Nursey, one eyebrow raised, hand on his hip, _oozing_ stern disappointment. Nursey’s no coward, but he also knows pissing Bitty off has _serious_ repercussions, so he hands over his _own damn phone._ Bitty gives Dex a look, and then Dex is guiltily pulling his book out of his pocket to hand to Chowder, who passes it across the table. Bitty passes Nursey’s phone to Chowder, and smacks Dex’s phone down into Nursey’s outstretched hand, rolling his eyes. “I swear, the two of you don’t have the good sense God gave a goose.”

Jack slowly nods his agreement, as if he knows what the fuck Bitty’s talking about.

 

\---

Nursey doesn’t have time to grab his phone back from Dex before he and Chowder leave team breakfast (Nursey and Chowder both have class at the same time, in the same building), so he’s stuck with Dex’s stupid Android for the morning.

Between breakfast and the first class on Dex’s schedule that day- some computer shit at noon- Dex’s phone rings, because of course it does, lighting up with an unflattering picture of either Dex’s older brother or some cousin that looks scarily like him.

Nursey groans at the timing, and at whatever higher power may be fucking with his life at the moment, before letting it go to voicemail, and immediately beginning to stew in guilt. In his family, they have a rule. If you can answer the phone, you answer it, because one of his moms is a lawyer and the other is a doctor, and they tend to assume the worst when he doesn’t pick up the phone (though, if he’s being honest, he still checks accident reports whenever his moms aren’t answering, so the rule’s just as much for him as it is for them). And he has no idea if that rule exists within the Poindexter clan, but he still feels really guilty. Especially when the brother/cousin _immediately_ calls again.

What if it’s an emergency? What if something’s happened and Dex gets there too late because Nursey didn’t answer the-

He answers the phone. 

“Hello?”

“ _Billy! Hey bud, you busy?_ ”

“Uh, kinda?” Nursey sits down on his bed. It’s not an invasion of privacy if he just confirms that everyone’s alive and well and then hangs up. “I was just heading out, I have a meeting? With my advisor? In twenty, so. Wanted to get there early.”

_“Oh, shit, okay I’ll make it quick then- Audrey called the other day, said mom and dad are fighting again.”_

Great, so, definitely an invasion of privacy, then. Nursey groans.

“ _I know, I know, what can’ya do. Apparently ‘kenz needs braces, and Meggie’s outgrown her violin which I guess is something that happens, and the boiler’s on the fritz, and shit’s just piling up, you know?”_

Nursey… really doesn’t. But it doesn’t sound good. “Shit.”

“ _Yeah, and with Gramma’s hospital bills and everything… anyway, I don’t want to put this on you, you gotta focus on getting an education, b_ _ut, you know you got that refund on your scholarship last month? I thought, maybe if you got it again, you and I could chip in. I’ve got some cash lying around, we can force mom and dad to take it. Might help.”_

“Uh, I-“ Nursey swallows. “The bursar’s statements haven’t come out yet? But I’ll send anything they give me.” Nursey should _really_ not be making any promises, but he has no fucking clue what he’s meant to do here. Anyway, if Dex doesn’t get the refund, Nursey will spot him for it. And then Dex will punch him in the face, but at least he won’t have made Dex let down his brother.

There’s a relieved exhale on the other end of the line. “ _Man, I can’t wait ‘till you’re some rich software designer and I can stop feeling bad for asking you for money.”_

“No, don’t, it’s- I’m happy to do it.” Nursey should probably just punch himself in the face, get it over with, because he has no business being part of this conversation, and he knows it.

“ _Yeah, I know.”_ A beat. “ _What about you, you eating right? Kicking yuppie ass on the ice?”_

Nursey rolls his eyes. Who even says ‘yuppie’ anymore. “You know it.”

“ _Atta boy. What’s the latest flavour?”_

“Uh, what?” _Please don’t let him be talking about women. Please for the love of God don’t make me play along with blatant objectification_. Nursey thinks, as loudly as he can.

_“Pie, jackass. That prettyboy who got lost and ended up on a hockey team, what pie’s he made lately?”_

Nursey rubs at the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Maple pear?”

_“Ugh, you lucky bastard. One of my buddies, Devin? He’s from down south and I think he’d pistol-whip me if I asked him to make me some pie. You’re lucky Georgia didn’t beat that habit out of him, if you know what I mean.”_

Christ. Nursey knows Dex’s brother is joking, but. _Christ_. “Listen, I’ve got that, thing. I should get going.”

“ _Oh shit, the advisor thing, yeah, okay. Later, bro- don't be a stranger, alright.”_

“Um, yeah.” The line clicks out. “Well, that was an unmitigated disaster.” Nursey says, into the empty room.

Nursey shudders, then rationalises. Dex’s brother is in some military academy somewhere, Nursey knows this, and he doesn’t know a _lot_ about that sort of thing, but he’d assume they’re breeding grounds for toxic masculinity, so not entirely his fault that he’s clinging on to antiquated gender roles and possible homophobia. And what he said was pretty tame, anyway. And he cares about his family!

Nursey calms down, feels the urge to hit something subside. He does need coffee though, and reasons he’s earned a nice latte after that phone call.

 

\---

When he gets back, Dex is examining his bookshelf. “Hey, Nursey, came to grab my phone back?” He says, turning halfway around. “Thought maybe if I’m gonna be stuck in your English major body, I should start reading some of this shit.” Turning back to the shelf, he pulls a book down, laughing to himself. “ _Dude_ , is this a romance novel?”

He holds up Nursey’s battered copy of _Beloved,_ from his mom’s personal collection. Nursey snorts. “Uh, definitely not.” He crosses the room to pluck the book from Dex’s hand. “And if you wanna read some classics, I’m not throwing you in the deep end on your first go. Also, not an English major, man.”

“English lit, whatever.”

Nursey frowns. Cool, so he and Dex know virtually nothing about each other. “Um, try undeclared?”

Dex blinks at him. “Wait, seriously?”

“Chyeah, I mean. I like lit, I like poetry, but I haven’t settled on a forever thing yet.”

“So you’re just wasting time and money.”

“Or getting core credits out of the way first year?” Nursey scoffs. “Chill, dude, plenty of people go undeclared first year. Hell, I think Bitty’s _still_ undeclared.”

Dex, thankfully, lets it go, instead shaking his head slowly and saying, “Sometimes I wonder how Bitty hasn’t flunked out of school.”

Nursey considers it. “Bribes all the profs with pie. Only way.”

Dex laughs. It’s nice to see it, to know that Nursey’s actually making him laugh rather than irrationally angry. It’s a shame he can’t see it coming from the real Dex.

“Anyway,” Nursey grabs Dex’s phone from the desk. “This belongs to you, filthy subservient Android fanboy.”

“Bite me, Nurse.”

Nursey chuckles, then frowns as Dex checks for new messages and pockets his phone. His heart pounds in his chest as he works up enough courage to admit, “Um, your- your brother called, by the way.”

“Really? Did he leave a message?” Dex says, pulling the phone right back out to check, and Nursey doesn’t really have an answer to that, which is apparently all the answer Dex needs as his head whips back up to look at Nursey. He’s got his angry eyes going. “Oh, you _didn’t_.” Nursey grimaces in response. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know! I tried to ignore it, I let it go to voicemail, but then he called again and I thought, like, what if it’s an emergency? And I don’t answer it and he’s rushed to the hospital and your phone dies because the charger broke so you don’t get the message for _days_ and he thinks you’ve deserted him! Or, like, my parents and I have a rule about answering if we can, otherwise we start panicking, thinking the worst, right? So if your family does that, they’d all be frantic and think something happened to you and they don’t deserve that, or what if your brother got hit by a car and he’s _dying_ and he wants to say his last words to you, and you don’t pick up, and-“

“Holy _fuck_ Nurse.” Dex interrupts, staring at him. “You’re just a panic attack waiting to happen, aren’t you?”

Nursey huffs. “You shouldn’t be so casual about panic attacks, it belittles them.” He says, then sighs, and explains. “I grew up in kind of a violent city.”

“I know, I’ve seen Law & Order.” Dex teases, _teases!_ with a slight grin. “So,” He exhales, slowly. “You talked to my brother. What’d he say?”

Nursey sits down on his bed, relieved that he somehow managed to dodge a shouting match, and Dex mirrors him, flopping onto the couch. “Um, he thinks Bitty’s pretty-“

“Unlikely.”

“And he’s shocked he grew up in Georgia without someone beating the gay out of him.”

“More believable.”

“And, um. Your parents are fighting about money and he wants the two of you to chip in to get your sister braces? Or a violin?” Nursey winces as literally all of Dex visibly tenses in front of him. “Oh, and he hopes you’re eating well.”

“Right.” 

Nursey waits for him to continue, but Dex just stares at his feet. Okay then. “Um, that’s cool about the refund, though?” Dex looks up at him, obviously confused. “The money you got back from your scholarship?”

“There’s no refund, Nursey!” Dex blurts out, suddenly, and more forcefully than the situation warrants. “My parents won’t take my money unless I shout at them that I don’t need it. I give them what I can from my work study, and I’m ‘into the thrifting scene’,” He mocks, “Because I would much rather wear secondhand clothes and budget than my little sister not be able to do what she loves because my parents can’t afford the expenses that come with it. Which is why I can’t come to Annie’s all the time, and why I was ‘sick’ when you guys all went paint-balling, and I’m sorry I’m fucking poor, okay? I didn’t fucking ask to be.”

Nursey gapes at him, as Dex looks anywhere but back at Nursey. “Oh, that’s… chill.” Dex isn’t looking at Nursey, but Nursey can genuinely _sense_ him rolling his eyes. "You do what you can for your family, I respect that. Sorry you- sorry you have to?"

Dex's head whips up. "I  _want_ to."

"Oh, yeah-" Nursey backpedals. "I know, man; you're good people. I'm just- they're your family, I get that, just- the choice shouldn't be between you having fun and your sister doing what makes her happy, y'know?"

Dex shrugs. "Just the way it is." 

Nursey considers Dex's monologue. “Wait, so this is why you freaked out at the Goodwill the other day?”

Scoffing, Dex leans back on the couch. “I didn’t freak out.” 

“You lost your _shit_ , dude.” Nursey leans forward, bracing himself on his knees. “What, you thought I was gonna give you crap because I found out you were poor? Dex, you shout at me about how poor you are, like, _daily_.”

“That’s different.” Dex protests.

“You do, though. And I’m not like, a complete asshole, I’m not gonna make fun of you for not having money. Not when there’s so many more fun things to give you shit for.” That earns him a chuckle from Dex, which Nursey counts as a victory. “These ears, for example.” He says, tugging at one of them to demonstrate.

Dex throws a pillow at him, grinning ever so slightly. “Low blow, jackass.”

Nursey laughs as he snatches the pillow out of the air, before bringing it close to hug it to his chest. "Um, you know I don't mean to- like, rub it in your face, that I have money."

"No, I know." Dex says, just quick enough Nursey doesn't  _entirely_ believe him. "It all just-" He makes a vague hand gesture in the air. "Gets a bit much, sometimes. Especially since- I mean, I think about money constantly, and the fact that you've never had to doesn't, um, help. Most of the time. Not your fault though."

Nursey sighs. He's not unfamiliar with the guilt that having more money than he'll ever need comes with. He is unfamiliar, however, with Dex opening up, and is kind of at a loss as to where to steer the conversation next. "I- honestly, with the, thrifting, thing. I never really thought about taking something affordable away from those who needed it more. Which, something I should've considered." Dex looks more uncomfortable by the second, so he tries to switch to a lighter angle. "Can't say I wasn't stoked to actually have something in common with you that wasn't hockey, though."

Dex chuckles. "Before or after I started yelling at you?"

"After, definitely." Nursey teases. "And especially during."

Dex rolls his eyes with a slight smirk, and then the two of them are just sitting, chuckling softly, letting the conversation lull comfortably. It's nice.

"Dude, we're totally having a moment." Nursey says.

Scowling, Dex rolls his eyes. “Which you just ruined.”

“Doesn’t matter, it happened.” 

“Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Yeah, yeah, leaving in a minute.” Nurse smiles. “Wanna hug it out before I go?”

“I’d rather eat my own spleen.” Dex huffs, but he looks like he’s suppressing the urge to smile, and Nursey feels lighter than he has all week.

 

\---

Over the weekend, Dex encounters yet another problem with all of the body-switching nonsense and the forced proximity it brings. It's a problem that solely affects Dex, but is intrinsically tied to being stuck in Nursey’s body.

He’s always acknowledged Nursey’s attractiveness. It’d be hard not to, with the amount of people that throw themselves at him and Ransom, who are both at the level of attractive where it’s basically just rude. For fuck’s sake, the Swallow did an expose about ‘trifecta boys’, otherwise known as those who’ve hit the sweet spot where they can be ‘handsome, cute, and hot’, sometimes simultaneously (where most mortal men are lucky to get two out of three), and pictures of Ransom and Nursey were cited as _evidence_. It’s one of the things that annoyed him about Nursey, actually, how Nursey just walks around being more attractive than ninety percent of the people Dex has ever seen and doesn’t seem to even notice, let alone care. It’s aggravating, and unfair, but Dex has surrounded himself, not by choice, with hot hockey players with great asses and that’s just something he’s learned to live with. He’s over it.

But then Dex emerges from the shower Sunday morning, ties a towel around his hips, and catches a glimpse of himself- well, of Nursey’s body, in the mirror, and his eyes map every curve of his muscles, the edge of his collarbones, the easy slide of water droplets down intoxicating dark skin-

And, well, fuck.

Then he’s standing in Nursey’s bathroom, occupying Nursey’s body, rocking a chub from just _looking_ at Nursey. He wonders absently if that qualifies as extreme narcissism, or just a blatant invasion of privacy.

And, Dex isn't an idiot. He has a sex drive, and knows which direction it runs. He is at Samwell, after all, on a team with people that think gender theory and the kinsey scale are normal post-practice banter. Also, Bitty. The thing is, Dex sees his sexuality the way some people do student loans; it’s something he’ll eventually need to address, but that’s a problem for future Dex, once he’s self-sufficient and an adult that can handle the stress of coming out to his family. They’re not, like, violent homophobes, but they wouldn’t exactly understand, either. He doesn’t do crushes, or dates, because honestly hockey, work study, and schoolwork take up enough of his life without some other person coming in his life and demanding his time. The point is, Dex isn’t in any way willing to be actively attracted to Nursey.

And _yet._

He probably should have seen this coming, after that time Nursey was at one of Dex’s seminars and Dex spent an embarrassingly long time flexing Nursey’s arm and watching in the mirror as his tattoo moved with every shift of muscle. That’s shit he’s taking to the grave.

The thing is, Dex now understands the way Nursey’s body moves, the stretch of his skin over muscle, regularly runs his hands over it as he scrubs it clean, unable to ignore the feel of it even as he tries to be as efficient as possible. He’s _intimately_ familiar with the various curves of Nursey’s body, but there’s a part of him that wants to relearn it all, from an outside perspective, have it pressed under him, all uncharted territory that Dex gets to explore every inch of. Possibly with his tongue.

So that’s inconvenient.

But it’s. Physical. A perfectly normal reaction to being attracted to male bodies and being in a male body that isn’t his but is, objectively, really hot. And not having rubbed one out in nearly a week because it feels creepy as shit to even consider.

Even if he and Nursey are currently operating on a cease fire while they sort their lives out, the two of them are fundamentally incompatible people who have only hockey in common. Besides, Nursey’s obviously falling over himself for Adrián, who seems _way_ more his speed. There’s no danger of Dex ever wanting anything substantial from Nursey, so he tries not to stress it. Anyone would be attracted to Nursey. It’s not a big deal.

It's not. He just needs to take another, very cold, shower. Immediately.

\---

That Monday, Dex is walking back to Nursey’s after an hour long lecture on finite probability space in which he mostly just wondered if all defensemen at some point wanted to bang each other or if it was a Samwell thing, when he spots Chowder walking across the North Quad. Dex waves at his friend, who’s with some- dare he say it- California-looking people (one of them is tossing an honest to god  _hacky sack_ in the air). Chowder waves back eagerly, says something to the others, and then bounds over to Dex.

“Hey, Chow. Walking back to the dorms?”

“Hey, yeah!” Chowder says, falling into step. “I’m glad I caught you, Dex, I was wondering, what was the name of your uncle who works on that marine life conservation project in San Diego?”

“Oh, Uncle Matty? Well, Matthew Poindexter. Yeah, he loves it out there, he won’t shut up about it.” Dex rolls his eyes fondly. “Is this for a project? I could give you his email if you want.”

Dex turns to look at Chowder, who is no longer next to him. Turning, he sees that he’s stopped about five feet away, face frozen in disbelief.

“Whoah,” Chowder breathes out, eyes wide. “So, um. Dex. Why are you in Nursey’s body?”

_Fuck_. “I- uh- you? He? Uh-” Dex stammers.

“See, cause you guys were acting, like, really weird? But I thought you were just sleeping together, especially because you kept mixing up each other’s shirts, and that you just didn’t want to tell me right away which was fine, but then. You were acting really, _really_ weird? Dex told me to _chill?_ ” He rambles, in a far-away voice. “And I noticed, hey, Dex has Nursey’s phone, that’s weird. And neither of you were texting any differently but he had it for _days_ before anyone else noticed and you switched back, and Nursey was eating oatmeal at breakfast? And Dex spent like six bucks on a fruit cup, and you switched places in practice, and there were so many things and I thought I was losing my mind but you- you’re really Dex, aren’t you?”

Chowder is… a really observant person. And a good best friend. “Uh.” He swallows roughly. “Yeah, actually.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” Chowder takes a breath. “Hashtag freaky friday.”

Dex grimaces at him, and it seems to finally snap Chowder out of his shock as he laughs, loud and open.

“Sorry, had to check.” He walks over to Dex. “Um, are you guys okay? I can’t even imagine…”

Dex inhales, shakily. “Uh, surprisingly so. We’ve got a system and everything, I’m staying at Nursey’s since his parents forked out for a single and a _couch_. Though he bought me an air mattress, which was. Cool of him.”

Chowder’s head tilts in confusion a little. “Right. So, um, how long has this been going on?”

“Um, since Saturday, like…” Dex counts backward in his head. “Wow, like, almost a week and a half ago.” It really hasn’t seemed that long. And, somehow, it’s seemed a lot longer.

“Oh!” Chowder seems to be mentally calculating as well, before saying hesitantly, “So, on, um. After Nursey’s class last Monday, with the race stuff…?”

Dex nods. “I needed to hear it, definitely. There’s a lot of shit I haven’t thought about, you know?”

Chowder smiles apologetically back at him. “Well, yeah, but you never needed to think about it before.”

“Yeah, I kinda did.” Dex disagrees with a shrug, and Chowder beams at him. “And any time you want to talk about how white hockey is, I will… sit and listen because my opinion doesn’t matter?”

“Sure you haven’t traded places with Shitty?” Chowder teases, with a laugh and a sixty-watt smile, and all feels right in the world.

  

\---

He takes Chowder back to Nursey’s room, because it feels _so_ good not to have to lie to him anymore, and it’d be selfish to keep the feeling to himself.

“Guess who knows we switched bodies?” Dex announces when he swings open the door. 

Nursey doesn't even look up from his book as he says dismissively,  "I told you, we didn't switch bodies, we switched minds."

Dex groans. "It's the same goddamn thing."

"Except our bodies stayed in the same place? So they couldn't've switched."

"We are not having this conversation again I swear to god-" Dex says, before Chowder, still unnoticed by Nursey, interrupts.

“ _Hey,_ Nursey!” He says, pointedly.

Nursey sits up straight at Chowder's voice, seeming to finally process Dex's words when he entered the room as he looks back and forth between the two of them. “You _told_ him?!”

“Psh, I figured it out myself, thank you very much.” Chowder grins, sitting on the couch. “Right around the time ‘Dex’ told me to chill.”

“World’s worst secret keeper.” Dex teases, as he pulls off Nursey’s pretentious-ass cardigan and pulls his much more familiar red flannel over his shoulders. Nursey sticks his tongue out at him in response.

Chowder grins. “Oh wait, no, it was actually when ‘Nursey’ flinched when I said hella, and then nearly spat out his boba tea.”

“Yeah, well.” Dex rolls his eyes as Nursey laughs. “Boba’s gross, it’s like drinking fish eggs.” Which only makes Nursey laugh harder.

“And, um, not that this isn’t…” Chowder looks between the two of them, at Nursey, who looks like Dex, sprawled out across Nursey’s bed, wearing an old Andover t-shirt and his silk pyjama bottoms (awful. Just awful), and Dex, who looks like Nursey, buttoning a flannel shirt up to his neck. “…deeply unsettling, but have you guys thought about how you’re gonna switch back?”

“No fucking clue.” Dex shrugs. “It’s not exactly like there’s research into this kind of thing.”

“Actually, there is.” Nursey chimes in.

Dex stares at him. 

“Um,” Nursey laughs nervously. “Yeah, I’ve been looking it up, a lot of people speculate about this sort of thing because it’s such a narrative staple in fiction? So shit’s actually been written about the scientific viability of body-switching.”

Dex continues staring, incredulous. “You… did _research_.”

“Nursey!” Chowder scolds, and Nursey raises an eyebrow at him. “I mean Dex! Don’t be judgy!” He frowns. “Gonna have to get used to that.”

“So wait, is there anything about switching back?”

Nursey rolls his eyes. “Obviously not, or I would’ve told you. It's all theoretical, no cases of it actually happening, but I did read this really interesting thing about how memories are physically stored in the brain, and how our minds do these intricate maps of our bodies which is why we were really disoriented the first day, because our minds were getting used to being in new bodies, and why Dex’s fingers could type code my mind didn’t understand.”

“ _‘Swawsome.”_ Chowder says, awe clear in his voice. 

“Or really freaky?” Dex says.

“Well, yeah a bit.” Chowder tilts his head. “But mostly really cool?”

Nursey laughs. “I think we’re just lucky we both play hockey, and are defensemen. We’ve been off enough this week- imagine if I’d swapped minds with someone who didn’t even know how to skate.”

Chowder gasps. “We have a game on Thursday!” He looks between them, panicked. “What are you gonna do?”

“Hope Ransom and Holster are on top of their game and don’t wanna share the ice?” Dex shrugs.

“If not?”

Nursey grimaces. “Pray Jack grants us a quick death.”

 

\---

Chowder is really chill about the whole thing- or, the Chowder version of chill. Which basically means he insists on no less than three group hugs, and rambles a little about how happy he is that he finally knows what’s going on with them, because he was really worried for a while there. But he isn’t weirded out by the fact that his two closest friends are occupying each other’s bodies, so that’s all Nursey can ask for, really.

And then there’s one more person in on the secret. And it’s _really_ nice. The three of them spend nearly two hours just talking; Chowder nearly cries laughing as Dex re-enacts the Adrian story, which Nursey doesn’t really mind, because he gets tell the story of the time he came back from classes and Dex, who habitually runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed and didn’t realise that Nursey’s curls are not ideal for such a habit, had worked his hair into an afro that broke at least four laws of physics. Chowder is beaming at them the entire time, which Nursey suspects is less the funny stories and more the fact that the one thing Chowder wants more than to never touch a puck off the ice is for his best friends to get along. 

It's the first real frogs time they've had in nearly a fortnight, and it’s so much _nicer_ now that Dex and Nursey aren’t just glaring at each other around Chowder’s head and getting along for his sake. And when they bicker, it’s light hearted, and Chowder just rolls his eyes instead of looking like he regrets his life choices. It's also the first time the three of them have had a night in that wasn't in Chowder's room or the Haus (which have both been unofficially deemed neutral zones) which is refreshing change- not that he doesn't like meeting at other places, but their ability to share Nursey's space feels like a big step in the right direction. Nursey is finally beginning to see the possibility for something good and long-lasting with  _both_ of them, not just Chowder. Eventually Nursey props up his laptop so they can watch Shark Tale - which Chowder  _hasn't seen_ \- and Dex runs to the kitchen to whip up some hot chocolate for a good old fashioned frogs movie night (Chowder can't eat popcorn with his braces, so they usually stick to warm drinks or whatever Bitty's made).

"So." Nursey asks, as he grabs a blanket from the closet. "Be honest. Who's worse at being the other, me or Dex?"

Chowder frowns thoughtfully, from where he's sat on the couch. "Good question." He says. "Dex is really tense, like, eighty percent of the time, which looks weird in your body, but you still tend to get really... poety. When you talk? Which sounds weird coming from Dex. But neither of you are _that_ obvious, really. It's mostly just a bunch of little things I probably wouldn't've questioned if... I mean." Chowder looks down. "It sounds really silly, but it felt like I hardly saw you guys, outside of, like, classes and practice. And even then, you were always just- wrapped up in each other. And my first thought was that you were together, y'know, like. Dating. And since you were getting along, you didn't need me anymore. When I started to think it was something else, I didn't bring it up for ages because you having switched b- minds, just seemed, well, like I was grasping at straws so I felt less left behind."

"Oh." Nursey says, quietly. "Chowder, that's-"

"I know, it's totally ridiculous-"

"Well, yeah." Nursey says, and Chowder flinches, just slightly. "No, I mean- bro. It will  _always_ be a thousand times more likely that we've been distracted with some weird, sci-fi mind-swap shit than forgotten about you? You're our  _best friend_. Even in some weird alternate universe wherein Dex and I are attracted to each other, you will forever be, hands down, my favourite person."

Chowder rolls his eyes, but smiles and visibly relaxes. "What if you  _married_ Dex?" He teases. "He'd have to be your favourite, then."

Nursey snorts back a laugh, and pretends to consider it. "Hmm... I don't think such a thing is conceivable."

"Even in an alternate universe?"

"Chyeah, think about it." Nursey plops down on the couch next to Chowder, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Dex and I, in this alternate reality, are madly, passionately in love, ready to tie the knot, adopt a horde of racially ambiguous freckled children, the whole shebang. Wedding planning begins, and we both want you as best man. I would never give in, neither would he, we'd duel to the death for the privilege, and before you know it, alternate universe Nursey has a dead fiancé on his hands. A recipe for disaster in every reality."

Chowder laughs as he sinks into Nursey's side. "I guess you have a point."

"Gotta think these things through, man." Nursey says, as the door to his dorm opens and reveals Dex, balancing three steaming mugs as he pushes the door open with his knee. "Yo, Dex. Answer a hypothetical?"

Dex nods in acknowledgment, shutting the door behind him. "Shoot."

"If, hypothetically, we were to get married," Dex raises an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that, I'd be a _dope_  hypothetical husband. If we were to wed, since you have a brother you obviously love, and I am a sad, bereft only child, could I get dibs on Chowder as a best man?"

"Fuck off." Dex says, immediately, as he hands Nursey a mug. "I  _definitely_ call dibs on Chowder."

Nursey gives Chowder a 'told you' look, and Chowder rolls his eyes with a bright, splitting smile. Nursey looks back over to Dex. "I'll fight you for him."

"I'd kick your ass, city boy." He teases as he sits down on the other side of Chowder, and passes him Nursey's favourite mug.

Nursey scoffs, as he leans over to start the film. "I cannot believe you just said 'city boy', out loud. What after-school special did you escape from, again?"

Chowder makes a disgruntled noise, and Dex, who had been opening his mouth to retort, closes it immediately to look at him. "I'm _sorry_ ," Chowder says, indignantly. "I signed up to watch Shark Tale, not Grumpy Old Men."

Dex and Nursey gasp, offended, and Chowder starts laughing again, smiling in satisfaction as the film starts to play. 

"Low blow, C." Nursey says with a smile.

"He started it." Dex protests, but the two of them fall silent, and Chowder sighs happily between them, as he brings his mug to his lips.

By the end of the film, they're all curled up on the couch, Chowder in the middle, tucked against Nursey's side with his legs across Dex's lap, Nursey's blankets thrown over all three of them. Chowder loves Shark Tale, unsurprisingly, and Dex (blaming his younger siblings) has an unsettling amount of the dialogue memorised, both of which are endless sources of amusement for Nursey. Around halfway through the film Nursey misses his mouth and spills hot chocolate on himself, for which he's chirped accordingly, and he and Chowder, in turn, chirp Dex for his exceptionally weak Robert De Niro impression.

It just feels right, the three of them back together, and for the first time since they switched, Nursey feels really and truly comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this fic isn't gonna have a surprise polyfrogs twist ending i just cannot stress enough the importance of Christopher "Chowder" Chow to the happiness of Derek Nurse, William Poindexter, and most importantly, me
> 
> ALSO is Nursey chicano (i.e. a person of mexican descent) ? well he's not canonically _not_ chicano, so I'm gonna say, yes. besides, Ngozi said his mom was mixed and part native american, and there's a massive native american population in mexico, and he did speak spanish in one update and i will take literally any opportunity to headcanon characters as latinx so here we are 
> 
> and in case anyone cares in my perfect version of reality nursey owns a rose gold iphone but those weren't actually around until fall 2015 so he gets a gold one for the time being, and for 'couldn't fit Nursey doing Dex's work study into this already lengthy fic' purposes Dex works for the IT office doing e-chat troubleshooting stuff so he can work from anywhere. i'm pretty sure that's a thing so i'm sticking to it
> 
> i am also perfectly aware that dex canonically only has one brother. since ngozi didn't say Anything about sisters i've given him four.
> 
> also just as a side note i'm fairly sure my personal favourite moment of this chapter is the mental image i have of maine boy dex's eyes narrowing from across the quad- ' _hippies_ ' he thinks with disdain, as his inner eighty year old man lurches back and forth on a rocking chair, watching some californites from the porch, seconds away from shouting at them to get a job
> 
> finally, again, just thank you everyone who commented on this fic you have no idea how much i treasure comments, and i'm so happy that people like this little au of mine. i hope not to disappoint, and thanks again :)
> 
> edit: did not realise this chapter was like 9k i'm so sorry


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday arrives a lot sooner than it has any right to.

“I’m gonna puke.” Nursey mutters to the empty (save Dex) locker room. They’re way earlier than they need to be; the bus doesn’t even _arrive_ for half an hour, but they require a bit more psyching up than usual for this particular game.

“You’re not gonna puke.” Dex says, without pausing as he paces back and forth along the length of the locker room.

“Well now I’m gonna puke just to spite you.” Nursey is tucked up inside his stall, which smells like death but feels comforting, so it balances out in the end.

Dex shakes his head. “It’s gonna be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He mutters. “I mean, we probably won’t even get to play all that much. Ransom and Holster are the dream team, right? They won’t need us.”

“Chyeah, _or_ one of them could get injured and they put us in for most of the game.” Nursey inhales. “Dex, I don’t understand your muscles, or reflexes, or hand-eye coordination, or _aim-_ it took me, like, ten days to stop shooting wide in practice!”

“What, you think I’m prepared for this? I keep falling over when I try to stop on the ice!” Dex somehow starts pacing even more aggressively. “Your body, unsurprisingly, listens to me even _less_ than you do.”

Nursey groans. “We’re gonna bomb. We’re gonna bomb _so hard_.” He inhales shakily. “Right, yeah, I need air. I’m gonna puke.”

Dex doesn’t argue this time, just keeps pacing as Nursey hobbles out of the locker room. He makes his way down the hallway, and notices out of the corner of his eye the light spilling out from the equipment room. Oh thank fuck. _Lardo_.

He slumps down the hallway and knocks on the door frame to announce his arrival, watching as Lardo turns from where she’s balancing on a ladder with a clipboard. “Oh, sup.”

“Hey Lards.” Nursey lets out a shaky breath. “Inventory?”

“Nah, I lost an earring the other day, thought it might be here.” She says, descending the ladder. “You alright?” She sits on the second rung of the ladder, watching him with careful, assessing eyes.

Nursey shrugs. “Just freaking a little.” Lardo is beginning to feel like the older sister he never had, and is intimately familiar with the ‘externally chill, internally a garbage fire’ mentality, so the admission comes out much easier than it would with other members of the team, regardless of which body he’s currently inhabiting. “Not sure if I can play today.”

Lardo makes a noise of comprehension, nodding slowly. “ _Ohh_ , so you two haven’t switched back yet.”

And, honestly. Nursey isn’t even fucking surprised. Of course Lardo knows. Exhaling, Nursey rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Chowder told you.”

“Chowder knows?” Lardo quirks her head, bouncing her clipboard slightly on her lap. “Huh, better at keeping secrets than I would’ve thought. Nah, he didn’t tell me.”

Okay, that he wasn’t expecting. “Then how..?”

Lardo fixes him with a look. “I’m your manager? It’s kind of my job to notice when there’s something messing with your game. Also, Dex doesn’t mutter to himself in Spanish when he’s fucking up on the ice, or give me a _look_ when the team is being especially white. Took me a while to figure out, though- I just thought you guys were banging, at first.”

Rolling his eyes, Nursey groans, “Why does _everyone_ think that?”

“You have heard of sexual tension, right?”

“I’ve heard of animosity being _mistaken_ for sexual tension, chyeah. _”_ Nursey crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans back against the wall. “Besides, I have a strict ‘no white boys’ policy.”

“Ah,” Lardo nods sagely. “I know it well. Not willing to contribute to your own colonisation, or be fetishised, and sometimes you just remember that historically, white men are the worst thing that’s ever happened to the world.”

“Exactly!” She gets it. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I used to have that policy, too.” Lardo hums to herself. “But, we’re kind of surrounded by white men, not sure if you’ve noticed. And that’s not a ‘they’re the only option’ thing, it’s an ‘oh these white boys are alright’ thing. Not all of them are rancid garbage, which did surprise me at first, not gonna lie.” She huffs out a laugh. “Not telling you what to do, I still think it’s a valid and defendable policy, but if you’re attracted to someone, and they’re a good person, and you can’t see past their ancestors, then in a way it’s like some gross dead white men are stopping you from being happy, and ruling your life. So they win.” Lardo pauses, before lifting her head to smirk at him. “And, I think you know, there are few things as satisfying as knowing what you’re doing in life would piss off some old racists.”

Nursey takes a moment to process what she’s saying. “You make a good argument.”

“Just something to think about.” Lardo says easily.

Nursey hums his agreement. “So, is this your way of telling me you have a thing for Shitty?”

“Absolutely not, get out of my equipment room.” Lardo deadpans, and Nursey c _ackles._

Raising his hands in surrender, he grins down at her. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. But if it _were_ , I’d tell you to go for it, because Shitty’s, like, he shouldn’t be attractive but is? And is actually like, a good white person, like you were talking about.” Lardo glares at him, but Nursey continues. “I’m not so sure Dex is, is the thing. Not that I’m even into him, I mean. Like, I thought he was cute when we met and then he opened his mouth, y'know? Besides, he puts the ‘straight’ in straight-laced.”

Lardo considers it. “Yeah, okay, maybe don’t date him, but at least give befriending him a shot? Like, I see where you’re coming from, dude definitely gives off small-town, aggressively masculine, white privilege vibes, this is true.” She shrugs. “That can be unlearned, though, and I don’t think he’s like. Actually a racist homophobe. He’s probably just internalised a bunch of shit from his home environment, and given that we play _hockey_ , here, it’s a miracle he’s not worse.”

“So what, I’m supposed to give him a medal for not being _as_ offensive as he could be?”

“Nah.” Lardo stands up. “A chance might be nice, though.” She exhales, determinedly. “As for the hockey freak out, I don’t really play hockey, and I’ve never inhabited anyone else’s body, so I’m tapped for words of wisdom.”

“Oh,” Nursey had forgotten about the hockey nerves. He knew talking to Lardo would calm him down, and it did, even if it’s been a very confusing few minutes. “It’s chill, don’t worry about it.”

Lardo joins him in the doorway, nodding back towards the locker room. “I think the coaches are planning on playing HR for most of the game anyway, but don’t stress it if they put you on the ice, okay? Deep breaths, and give it your all. That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

“Yeah,” Nursey follows her out. “Yeah, thanks Lards.”

“Anytime.”

 

\---

On the bus, Nursey starts freaking out again, thinking and overthinking of all the ways the game could go horribly. Dex doesn’t look much better, he’s mostly just cracking his knuckles like he’s been paid to do it, and staring out the window. Chowder was right- he  _is_ pretty much always tense- Nursey notices his jaw clenching and unclenching in time with the bus as it lurches along.

Nursey taps Dex on the shoulder, and watches as he removes an earbud from his ear and turns to look at him.

Dex frowns almost immediately. “No.”

Nursey blinks. “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“Don’t have to. I recognise that look.” Dex says, his tone stern. “It’s your ‘I’m gonna make Dex talk about stupid shit that doesn’t matter for my own amusement’ look. Keep it off my face.”

“Bro.” Nursey replies. “I- I was _not_ , and even if I was, why do you have my _faces_ catalogued?”

Dex shrugs. “Makes pre-emptive strikes easier. If I can predict what you’re gonna say before you say it, I never have to have another conversation about 'if fruit were sentient and in some kind of hunger games-style death match, who would win?' ever again."

Nursey grins; he had forgotten about that one. "I still think you underestimate pineapples."

"It's-" Dex rubs at his temples. "It's so obviously fucking coconuts, I don't-" He exhales determinedly. "It doesn't matter.  _Never_ again."

"Okay, sure, but pineapples literally _eat you back_ , they're hardcore." Nursey says, as Dex drops his head forward until it falls against the seat in front of them, and begins to thump his head against it. "You know, we didn't even take pomegranates into account." Nursey says thoughtfully, as Dex groans into the leather.

"Fucking  _pomegranates,_ really? Coconuts are basically  _rocks_ , it's like they have built-in armour, what about this is so har-"

"Hey guys." Chowder interrupts, his head popping up over the seats in front of them. "Everything okay?"

Dex lifts his head slowly, eyes rolling up to look at Chowder, and sighs out a long breath. "Fine, Chow."

Chowder raises an eyebrow. "You sure? Because I heard the fruit argument again, and Nursey only ever brings up the weird ones when you're freaking out and he thinks you need a distraction."

Dex's head does a funny half-flinch movement as he regards Chowder. "Uh.?"

"We're kind of, um." Nursey explains for Dex, who doesn't like to admit it when he's stressing hockey or school stuff. He'll happily broadcast when Nursey's stressing him out, but not much else. "Not optimistic about the game tonight. What with our... predicament?"

Chowder nods. "Yeah, I figured."

He leans his head on his arms, which are crossed over the seat, and sighs. Dex and Nursey both wait for a beat, but it doesn't seem like he plans on following the statement up with anything. Nursey clears his throat. "Really thought you might go for a pep talk there, C."

"Oh!" Chowder sits up, looking sheepish. "I didn't think you'd need one- it's just a game."

Dex rolls his eyes. "Kinda hypocritical to go for the 'hockey isn't that important' angle, don't you think?"

"What?" Chowder scoffs. "No,  _obviously_ hockey is important, c'mon D- _Nursey_." He says significantly, looking around the rest of the bus before winking at them conspiratorially, obviously enjoying himself. He continues, "This  _game_ , however, isn't the playoffs or the frozen four or anything special- it's just a game against Harvard. I know you guys are playing in the wrong bodies, but it's kinda like an injury? You can't control it, and if it screws up your play it's not your fault?" Chowder smiles beatifically. "Besides, you've also been, you know. Pretty bad recently? With the falling everywhere and missing passes- the coaches probably won't put you on for too long, if at all. Not that you haven't been getting a _lot_ better, but."

Oh well that's very comforting, isn't it. Dex and Nursey both look at each other; Dex gives him one of those half-fond 'well that was useless' looks, and Nursey smirks. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, C." 

Chowder laughs. "Well, normally I'm _totally_  confident that the two of you, together, are unstoppable." Nursey feels his face warming, presumably with pride. "But I have recently had to watch both of you misjudge your trajectories and skate  _into_ each other. Twice. Eight times if we count all the times you've skated into other people."

"Yeah, but-"

"And who could forget when De- Nursey went for a slapshot and accidentally let go of his stick and nearly decapitated me."

"Okay, yes, that was-"

"Or when  _Dex_ hit a puck straight up, somehow? And everyone had to scatter so it wouldn't concuss them on the way down."

"We get it." Dex says dryly, but his mouth is twitching, and Nursey's trying to suppress a laugh but when Dex looks at him with a jokingly self-deprecating grimace, the floodgates open, and before long the three of them are cackling in their seats.

"Oh _god_ ," Nursey wheezes, as Chowder wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. "We suck. There's no way the coaches are gonna play us."

As Dex chuckles next to him, Chowder smiles. "Probably not, no. Have fun warming the bench and save the stress for when you're actually playing as yourselves."

Dex rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. "I'll have to remember this advice when exams roll around; 'you suck but there's nothing you can do about it so why stress', very poetic." He pauses, before frowning, sheepish. "Uh- sorry, again, about the. Almost breaking your neck with my stick. That whole thing."

"No worries." Chowder waves him away, amused. "Though if you feel it coming on again, aim it at the other goalie? We might be able to make a play out of it."

 

 ---

They’re winning two to zero by the second period, thanks to a gorgeous backhand by Jack, with Bitty on the assist, and a _shocking_ breakaway by Shitty in the first period, who’s weirdly impassioned by the fact that they’re playing Harvard, and seems to be playing at the top of his game purely out of spite. Chowder hasn't let a single one of Harvard’s fifteen shots through, and all of this probably means the coaches are getting cocky, because halfway through the second period they pull Ransom and Holster and send Dex and Nursey stumbling off the bench and onto the ice. Nursey glares at Chowder from across the ice as he just sort of shrugs up his arms in a distinctive 'whoops, did I give you misleading advice, my bad' gesture, looking like a guilty crab, and somehow, even with distance and the mask, Nursey knows he's grinning, amused, because he's an asshole sometimes. Although to be fair, it's probably not possible to be close friends with Dex and Nursey if you  _aren't_ an asshole sometimes.

It’s much less of a disaster than Nursey expects, which is… surprising.

They don’t score anything, but they connect on most of their passes, and when Dex falls over trying to stop, he passes it off as a check.

Nursey is getting the hang of Dex’s body, and, coupled with him being more nervous and thus more determined not to fuck up than he’s ever been in his life, plays some decent defence. Then, with about five minutes on the clock, Bitty passes to him, and he sees with some certainty a burly Harvard player headed towards him with a _vengeance_. Nursey passes to- well, someone in red and white- at the last second and braces himself, but he’s not _that_ used to Dex’s lighter weight and his weird centre of gravity, and when Harvard makes contact, he slams into the boards. _Hard_.

It knocks the air out of him and sets his head spinning a little, sure, and he takes a couple breathing seconds laid out on the ice more out of _shock_ than anything, but he thinks the panicked look in Dex’s eyes as he hovers over him is a bit of an overreaction. The ref blows the whistle and then there’s discussion of a charging penalty, and Dex is offering him a hand. “Shit, Nursey- you okay?”

Nursey stands, and takes a second to catch his breath. “Yeah, fine, just not used to- all of this.” He expects Dex to accept the answer and skate away, but he hovers, his hand still on Nursey’s arm. Nursey raises an eyebrow. “Careful Dex, if I didn’t know better I’d think you cared.”

Dex shifts his weight back and away from Nursey, then gives the tiniest hint of a smirk. “That’s my body you’re beating up, Nurse.” He teases in response, and lets go of Nursey at last. The smirk on his lips, matched with the concern Nursey had just seen from him- confuse Nursey, just a little.

Then Jack’s skating around, giving Nursey a weirdly efficient pat on the back, which he _believes_ is Canadian white guy for ‘glad you’re okay’, conveniently distracting Nursey from whatever that interaction with Dex was, and then a whistle blows and they’re playing again.

 

\---

They win four to one, with Nursey and Dex having played a grand total of about eight minutes, and everyone’s in high spirits as they pack up their shit and leave the locker room, except maybe Dex, who’s dragging his ass as he packs up. At this rate, the bus is gonna leave without them.

“Yo, I’mma hit the bus.” Nursey says, nodding towards the door. “Save you a seat?”

“Uh,” Dex doesn’t really look at him so much as lift his head towards the sound of his voice. “Gonna sit with Chowder? I’ve been meaning to ask him some programming stuff, and since he knows about… everything, now.”

Nursey understands the vague language, there are six other people still left in the locker room after all, but he’s getting a _really_ weird vibe from Dex. “Um, yeah, that’s chill.”

Dex just sort of makes a noncommittal noise at him, and Nursey frowns, but decides not to push, just hefts his bag over his shoulder and makes his way out. The thing is, sitting next to each other on roadies is _tradition_ , the only fucking thing they agreed on before the body-switching nonsense, and, whatever, Dex can sit next to whoever he wants, but it still throws Nursey off-kilter.

Whatever, he’ll sit by himself. Maybe take a nap. 

Dex finally boards the bus while Nursey is queueing up some songs on his iPod, and Nursey isn’t _proud_ of the way he aggressively tries to make eye contact with the person living inside his body and fails terribly, but there’s no use dwelling on the past. Dex is just in a mood, or something. He’s not gonna stress it.

To his surprise, Lardo claims the empty seat next to him as soon as the bus starts moving.

“Sup… Lards.” He says, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you usually sit with Shitty?

She shrugs. “Not sure I can handle an hour of him right now.”

As if summoned by Lardo's voice from across the bus to prove her point, Shitty jumps up and into the aisles. “Alright, you magnificent bastards! Listen up! I know it’s a school night and I’ve been forced-”

“Encouraged.” Jack’s voice interrupts.

“-threatened with bodily harm not to pull a kegster tonight, _so._ Tomorrow. Ten pm. We are drinking to see _God_ , gentlemen.”

“And we are pretending we’re not hearing any of this.” Coach Murray calls from the front of the bus.

“Good man.” Shitty calls back. “Ransom, Holster, you are in charge of organising this in my honour.”

“Very humble, Shits.” There’s Jack again.

“I don’t need to be humble, I got a goddamn _hat-trick_ , Zimmermann!” Shitty yells, apparently unaware that a bus is a small, enclosed area. “Harvard can suck my DICK.”

Nearly half the team starts making whooping noises of encouragement, while Nursey turns to look at Lardo, who is staring at Shitty, shaking her head slowly. “…okay, I see what you mean.”

Lardo blinks at him. “Oh believe me, it just gets worse.” She shudders, then extends a hand. “Wha’d’ya got for me?”

Nursey passes over an earbud as Hall stands up to start debriefing on the game, which Nursey fully intends to ignore. “Just a post-game playlist. I can translate the Spanish, if you want.”

“‘Swasome.”

 

\---

Dex is just… quiet when they get off the bus. They bid goodnight to the upperclassmen and walk back to the dorms, Chowder between them, a buffer of endless chatter about the game (Chowder is like, scary good at understanding when there shouldn’t be any lulls in the conversation), but they have to say goodnight to him eventually. And then it’s just Nursey half-heartedly making small talk about the kegster while Dex follows him up the stairs to Nursey’s dorm in complete silence. Whatever, Nursey’s too tired to do much of anything, nonetheless work out what’s crawled up Dex’s ass. When they get in, he just strips down to his boxers and throws himself into bed, curling up under his blankets as Dex putters around in the bathroom.

They’re both settled in for the night, lights off, when Dex speaks and pulls Nursey back from where he’s nearly succumbed to sleep. “Nursey?”

“Hrm?”

Nursey hears shuffling come from Dex’s direction, but it’s a few moments before he speaks again. “I’ve been meaning to say, I- I’m sorry for being a dick about the- privilege stuff. I didn’t mean to disregard the shit you have to deal with, I just. Didn’t get it. I do now.”

Wow, okay. Not at all what Nursey was expecting to hear. He turns towards Dex and is just able to make out his profile, staring steadfast at the cieling, in the light from Nursey’s window. “Um, thanks, man. ...where is this coming from?”

Nursey watches the blankets rise and fall as Dex breathes. They shudder as he inhales shakily before answering, “The game, tonight. The things those guys said to me, I-“ He shuts his eyes. _Ah_. That would explain some things. Nursey usually gets at least one or two guys a game who aren't original enough to come up with effective insults, and thus dwell on the black thing. Usually with some digs about being a drug dealer, or having a prostitute for a mom, or whatever stereotypes they've picked up from the last film they watched. And he had kind of been wondering whether or not Dex had been dealing with, or whether he'd even notice, the race stuff Nursey usually has to endure; they haven't talked about anything approaching race beyond the nine am discussion, and that was just during the first couple days.“And that’s not the only thing, there have been so many _assholes_ this week and I had this talk with Chowder, and Ransom I guess- and I’ve wanted to say something but I didn’t know how to say it so I kept putting it off but after tonight I just… couldn’t.” He exhales. “I don’t know how you resist the urge to just- punch people?”

Nursey huffs out a quiet laugh. “I play a competitive contact sport?” Dex chuckles, and Nursey continues. “Getting angry, or violent, just reinforces what they think of you. So I ruminate on that, kick ass on the ice, write some angry poetry, and I remind myself to chill about three times a minute.”

“Funny, that only ever makes me more angry.” Dex smiles, but it falters. “Just like you saying ‘money isn’t everything’ used to. But I guess-" He clears his throat. "I guess I realised it doesn't matter how much money you have, you won't be able to stop this shit happening. And I just thought, you know, I'm going to a good school, for a compsci degree. I'm probably going to get a good job and make  _bank_ , eventually; I won't have to worry about money forever. There's no quick fix for- um."

"Racism?" Nursey finishes, stunned. Holy fuckballs, batman. Dex _gets it_. He's finally acknowledging what Nursey has been trying to make him realise for  _months_. If Nursey weren't essentially half-asleep, he'd jump for joy, or check Dex for a concussion. As it is, he just grins, dazed, into the darkness. “Yeah, sorry to disappoint, but being black isn’t all fun and games and defining pop culture and being hotter than everyone else.”

It gets another, more real laugh out of Dex, which is a relief. Nursey’s kind of worried if Dex gets too deep into micro-aggressions and institutional racism he’ll get stuck in a white guilt spiral and Nursey will have to reassure him that he’s not the scum of the earth, and listen to him apologise for anytime he’s said anything vaguely offensive, and then he won’t get to sleep until four am (he and Shitty ran with the same general crowd at Andover. He’s heard stories). And he's just too exhausted for that to be feasible. 

“I just-“ Dex clears his throat. “I want you to know that when I’m a dick to you- which I am, kind of a lot, it’s not because you’re black.” Oh, the boy does try, doesn’t he. The problem was never that Nursey was black, it was that Dex didn’t know what being black _meant_. And, Nursey considers, it's pretty much guaranteed that the only reason he knows now isn't because he ever listened to a word Nursey said, but because he's now had to live through the shit Nursey gets on the daily. _But_ , a thought that sounds eerily Lardo-like says,  _he is trying_. 

“Oh, I know.” Nursey teases at last, letting him off the hook. “It’s because I’m insufferable.”

“Nah,” Dex laughs, and turns, at last, to look at Nursey. “You’re not so bad.”

Nursey looks back at him, contemplating. “William, you continue to surprise me.”

“Go to sleep, Derek.” Is Dex’s only reply, soft and fond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys this chapter is a bit shorter than usual but i've just checked and the next one is like. 7k. so. consistency? i don't know her (also really sorry this is a bit late, i genuinely just forgot what day it was. i have no excuse other than exams are mildly kicking my ass)
> 
> edit: i no longer apologise for chapter shortness as the word count looks sick as fuck (25,252), so it turns out this chapter was actually the precise perfect length
> 
> honestly though i don't divide by length i just find natural stopping points? so sorry it's all v inconsistent lengthwise but hey this chapter we get some lardo!! who i would kill for without hesitation 
> 
> and some actual hockey stuff!! okay i know, i know, shitty's a third line winger it's Very unlikely he'd get a hat-trick but i took some creative license because i love the idea of Shitty, freshly applied to Harvard, dealing with the fact that he's _applied. to. Harvard._ by playing hockey with a goddamn vengeance because that's how you healthily deal with the fact that in order to make the differences you'd like to make in the world, you have to compromise and do something that'll?? actually make your parents proud?? even though you hate your dad and his pompous family and you don't want to be The Harvard Child but you do want to be able to make a significant change and make your parents pay extortionate tuition fees and stay close to your bros but ffffuuccck harvard
> 
> as always, comments are treasured in the deepest depths of my cold dark soul and also not sure if i've mentioned but i am dameferre on tumblr so if you wanna yell at me that way the option's open


	5. Chapter 5

Honestly, Nursey is a little surprised when he wakes up the next morning, still inhabiting one William Poindexter. He’s seen the films; he and Dex resolved a major problem in their dynamic, so film logic follows that they switch back. They both learned something about the other, they’ll play better now that they don’t find something new to argue about every five seconds, roll credits.

Alas.

Neither of them have class until at least noon, so they grab a quick breakfast and return to Nursey’s room to give productivity their best shot (“I’m not sitting outside today, Nurse, I don’t care how many times you whine about your leaves missing you.” “C’mon Dex-” “It is _raining_ , dickhead”).

Nursey’s halfway through a literature review when a familiar screen pops up on his laptop, showing a call from his mom. He considers ignoring it, but he’s been doing that all week, and they’re a family of worriers. “Dex- _Dex_!”

“I still don’t care about your leaves.” Dex mutters, typing away on Nursey’s couch.

“Nah, man- Skype my mom for me?”

Dex doesn’t even look up. “Absolutely not.”

“C’mon- I talked to your brother!”

“A thing I did not ask or want you to do.”

Nursey pouts. “I’ve been dodging her Skype calls all week- she’s gonna get sad.”

Dex rolls his head up, giving Nursey a very clear ‘you’re really fucking gonna pull that card’ face. “Ugh.” He holds out his hand, and Nursey leaps off his bed to pass the laptop over. “What do I say?”

“I’m meeting someone for coffee in five minutes, thanks for the care package, we won four to one.”

Dex steels himself, then accepts the Skype call.

“Derek!” Nursey’s mom’s voice comes through the laptop speakers, and Nursey sighs happily. It’s nice to hear her, even if he can’t see her. “M’hijo, you’re too good to talk to your mother, now? We’re down to once a week.

“Uh, sorry-“ Dex looks slightly frightened. “Um, I’ve been busy- I actually have to meet someone for coffee in a few minutes, I just wanted to say hi.”

“Coffee?” Oh no. Nursey knows that voice. “With anyone special?”

Dex clears his throat. “No, just- Dex? From the hockey team.”

“Ah, claro. William Poindexter, your defence partner from Maine, father is a plumber, mother works in a grocery store, five siblings, brother in the US Naval Academy.”

Ah fuck.

Dex stares at the laptop, jaw slack and eyes wide. It’s possible this was an ill-conceived venture.

Nursey hears his mother start to laugh. “Don’t look so surprised, family weekend wasn’t so long ago. Your mamá is thorough.”

Dex laughs awkwardly. “Right.”

“Anyway, I wont keep you, you know I just like seeing your face.” She says. “It wouldn’t kill you to call once in a while, you know.”

“Yeah I’ll… try to do better, I’ve just had a hectic couple of weeks.”

“I know, I know, you’re in college now, you don’t have time for me anymore.” She laughs. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Dex parrots, and the call cuts out. He slowly lifts his head to look at Nursey, who’s unsure if Dex is confused or simply vastly uncomfortable. “So.”

“So,” Nursey parrots, not wanting to start in case he spooks the skittish Poindexter.

“So,” Dex leans forward, threading his fingers together and resting his chin on the overlap. His voice is dazed as he continues, “Your mom is ridiculously beautiful. Unsurprising, given,” He sort of gestures one-handedly to Nursey’s general face area, which may be the closest thing to a compliment he’s ever received from Dex. “Your mom also knows… a lot about my life.” He looks Nursey directly in the eye.

Nursey winces. “My mom is, um. A lawyer? Everything’s public record and she just- likes knowing who’s in my life. And she really, really likes research. She, uh, made flashcards.”

“So I was… researched.” Dex says carefully.

“Yes.” Nursey nods, trying to gauge Dex’s freak out level. “As was the entire team. And the coaches. And my professors. She’s very thorough. Also, one year at Andover I accidentally befriended the son of this Republican politician and we didn't realise until-” He starts, before remembering that Dex is a Republican. "Anyway, it was this whole thing."

“That’s-” Dex deflates a little, squinting at him. “She made your dad _flashcards_?”

“What? No.” Oh, right. “My dad couldn't make it. Magdalena, my mom, who you were talking to, came to parents weekend and was given flashcards by Rayah, my other mom, who _also_ couldn’t make it. It’s weird, but she has a crazy conflicting schedule so we don’t always get to talk that much. It’s easier to tell her about my life if I don’t have to remind her who’s _in_ my life at the beginning of every conversation. ”

“Wow, okay.” Dex looks like he’s processing. In his defence, Nursey supposes they didn't exactly interact during parents weekend; he certainly doesn't remember whether or not Dex's family showed up. “That’s- I guess I assumed your parents would be like, the distant kind of rich. ”

“Weird assumption to make.” Nursey’s eyes narrow. Dex may have apologised the night before, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t internalised some shitty ‘black parents are negligent’ brand of thinking. Nursey decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Did you watch a lot of Gossip Girl as a preteen, or something?”

“No, jackass.” Dex rolls his eyes. “You just… don’t talk about them a lot?”

If Nursey remembers correctly, the last time he tried to talk about his family in front of Dex was when he was telling Chowder about the trips he and his moms take to Oaxaca, Mexico, where his great-grandmother was born, to reconnect with his mom’s family and explore the Mexican coast. He had gotten to ‘my parents own a house by the beach in Mexico’ before Dex went on one of his ‘eat the rich’ tirades, and Nursey had given up trying to tell the story.

“Probably because whenever I talked about my home life you lost your shit?” He grins. “Anyway, my moms and I are super close. They're just busy people. It’s chill."

Dex hums thoughtfully. "Y'know, it honestly makes a lot of sense that you come from the weirdest people I've ever heard of."

"Hey!" Nursey protests. "I'm not a genetic product of Rayah."

Dex shrugs. "Nature versus Nurture."

"Oh fuck you, my moms aren't weird, they just like research. Nothing wrong with that." He grins. " Also, it means I get to know that, contrary to what you might have me believe, _you’ve_ been arrested, William Poindexter.”

Dex look sat him for a second, confused, before something apparently clicks and he groans. “Oh c’mon, I was _fifteen_ , how did she even-”

“You made the town newspaper, did you not?” Nursey smiles. “Breaking and entering, _very_ classy.”

“It was my highschool, it was a dare, I- I was _fifteen_.”

Laughing, Nursey pats him comfortingly on the shoulder. “Don’t trip, Bitty’s been arrested for joyriding. Twice.”

“You’re _kidding_.”

 

\---

They arrive at the Haus around eleven that night, with the kegster in full swing, the street leading up to the Haus already vibrating from the speakers Ransom and Holster produce for every kegster but no one ever sees before or afterwards. They’re later than Dex intended, but he and Nursey spent a solid twenty minutes arguing about what the other would wear to the kegster (“For fuck’s sake, Dex, your formal flannel is not party attire. This calls for something from my closet, not ‘straight white boys r us’. And put on my leather jacket, it makes me look hot”). They compromised on Dex in a white t-shirt and the leather jacket, Nursey in a hoodie with a t-shirt under it instead of layering up the flannel, so. Nursey’s being smug about it.

Usually he sees Nursey an average of four times during a kegster, once around the drinks area, once with Chowder, once when Nursey’s doing something drunk and ostentatious, and finally when Nursey’s passed out somewhere and someone’s instructed Dex to put a blanket over him. But they’re used to hovering around each other now, and continue to do so as the party swells around them.

They’re leaned against the wall of the living room, watching Chowder attempt a game of flip-cup with some guy he doesn’t recognise, and just. Being comfortable in each other’s company. Nursey’s brought some gin, because of course he has, and left it in the kitchen with the rest of the alcohol because he doesn’t worry about something he’s payed for ending up in the tub juice. A month ago, that would’ve pissed Dex off. At the moment, he thinks it’s a pretty fucking insignificant thing to dwell on. So Nursey sips his gin and soda and juice- he’s a weird one- and Dex drinks the Haus special, and they lightheartedly bicker about their favourite book series’ as children. Dex comes down firmly on the side of Goosebumps, and Nursey’s been trying to convince him of the merit of Artemis something-or-other.

“I had this massive crush on Artemis growing up, told the 'rents I was gonna marry him one day.” Nursey chuckles, a low flush on his cheeks from the alcohol. “I was such a gold digger. Heh.” He smirks at his cup, then up at Dex. “If you’d read the books, you’d get that was funny.”

“You’ll have to explain it to me one day.” Dex says, already feeling the alcohol swirling around in his head. Nursey’s body is a lightweight. He watches as Nursey flicks his head a little, shifting Dex’s hair out of his eyes. “My hair’s getting long.”

Nursey frowns in confusion, but then seems to get it, running his hand through the orange strands. “Chyeah, I know- sort of shaggy at the top as well.”

Dex tries to think of when he last got it cut- he’s probably well overdue. “I guess I forgot about my once a month rule with… everything.” He shrugs, fingers running over the rim of his plastic cup absently. “We can hit the barber tomorrow if you want.”

Nursey narrows his eyes. “Not on your life, William. It’s my hair now.” He takes a swig with a mischievous grin. “I like it like this.” There’s an edge to his voice, a suggestion of something that… probably means nothing.

With the pounding music, however, and the raised voices around him, and the dimmed lights of the Haus, Dex can forget that this isn’t what they do, that they aren’t where they belong. If Dex rests his head back against the wall and lets the alcohol soak in, all he feels is Nursey’s arm against his, warm and comfortable. Maybe, in another world, there’s another Nursey who’s running his fingers through Dex’s hair, his hand hovering just above the nape of his neck, muttering ‘I like it like this’ as he pulls Dex closer. Maybe not. The image won’t leave Dex’s mind, regardless.

“Insouciant.” Nursey says, after a pause.

Dex frowns. “What?”

“Insouciant. Nonchalant, calm, showing a lack of concern.” Nursey says simply, looking off into the party, and then Dex understands. This is something Dex has grown accustomed to; Nursey just naming words he likes the sound or definition of. It usually happens when they’re studying together, and at first Dex had thought it was Nursey’s way of trying to educate Dex or something, but realised eventually that Nursey just unironically thinks words are _fun._ Chirping him for some of the nerdiest shit Dex has ever encountered would be so easy and obvious, it'd take all the enjoyment out of it. Besides, it's kind of endearing. 

“So, basically, chill.” Dex grins. “Or, the opposite of you.”

Nursey gasps dramatically. “Are you saying I’m not chill?”

“You may be the least chill, most overdramatic, ridiculous, passionate person I have ever met. You just hide it well.”

Nursey blinks at him, eyelashes fluttering lazily from the alcohol in his system. “Huh. You got me there.” He grins, lazy and soft. “Didn’t realise you were paying attention.”

Dex’s mind and heart have a very strange reaction to that, that Dex has no real interest in understanding. Earlier that day, when Dex had thought for a moment that Nursey's mom knew all that stuff about him because _Nursey_ had told her, because he listened to Dex when he talked about his family, and had talked to his mom about Dex- well, he felt something similar. He doesn't particularly want to dwell on either feeling. “Hey, um.” Dex raises his cup to his lips, swallows what was left of his tub juice. “Need a refill?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks man.” Nursey holds a finger up for Dex to wait as he downs his drink, then holds out the empty cup. “All yours.”

Dex makes his way through the crowd, their conversation on repeat, buzzing in his brain. He _really_ needs another drink.

He’s pouring what he assumes is a reasonable amount of gin (he doesn’t really do mixed drinks) into Nursey’s cup when it happens.

“Hey, Der.” Says a voice as a hand ghosts from the base of his spine to his side.

He flinches, nearly spills the drinks, and whoever is- _stroking_ him laughs.

“Sorry babe, didn’t mean to scare you.”

 _Babe_? Dex finally turns to whoever the fuck calls Nursey ‘babe’ and ‘ _der_ ’, and comes face to face with a _very_ attractive face. Cool, good to know Nursey’s type never dips below an 8, so Dex is fucked. Not that Dex wants to- anyway. This girl is, like. Beyond attractive. Her skin is a couple of shades darker than Ransom’s, and she’s got these long braids and a piercing that hangs below her nose and a grin that Dex doesn’t like the look of. Though, objectively, it’s pretty hot. She looks strangely familiar, as well, and Dex realises she’s in Nursey’s snapchat stories all the time, usually with some annoying text like ‘queen of folding laundry’ under her.

“Surprise,” She leans across the counter. “I finally made it to one of these things. Very much not as disgusting as expected.” She reaches out and runs her fingers along the zipper of his jacket. “Yo, leather’s a good look on you.”

Dex is probably not sober enough for whatever this interaction is going to entail. He takes a swig of the drink he was making for Nursey. Go hard or go home. “It’s- glad you’re here?”

She laughs, pushing some of the braids out of her face. “My friends playing at an open-mic thing on gross bar lane, you were on the way, thought I'd stop by and say hi. And obtain some free alcohol. Sharesies?” She nods towards the cup in Dex’s hand, and Dex passes it over silently.

“You’re quieter than usual.” She says as she sips, concern clear in her eyes. “I feel like I never see you, you doing okay?”

“Just got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Don’t we all.” She grins. “Hey, that girl kicking ass at beer pong, she’s not Lardo is she?”

“Um.” Dex cranes over to look into the living room. “Yeah, that’s her.”

She whistles softly. “Damn.” She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t have cash on me, I’ll transfer you the twenty.”

“O-okay.” Dex is, possibly, too drunk to be talking to anyone right now, let alone Nursey’s beautiful- whatever she is, because he has no idea when they started talking about twenty _anything_.

She frowns at him, starting to look uncomfortable. “Babe, I’m gonna hold onto this, I think you’ve had enough.” She zips up her pink jacket. “I _strongly_ advise you go dance this off. I’d ask you to come with me, but I don’t think we’re at the ‘come see my friend’s shitty band play at a dive bar’ part of the relationship. Text me if you wanna come over later though, alright?”

Relationship.

Dex nods, distractedly, and she takes his face in her hands and kisses him on the cheek before walking away, disappearing into the crowd of people.

 _Relationship_?

 

\---

"Yo, C, you seen- um, Nursey around anywhere?"

Nursey feels a little guilty about interrupting; Chowder's obviously getting somewhere with the girl dancing in front of him, but luckily neither of them look overly annoyed at the interruption. Chowder frowns. "Um, no, I don't think so- everything okay?"

"I dunno." Nursey shrugs. "He went to get us some drinks like. Twenty minutes ago, and I haven't seen him since."

"Huh." Chowder's bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he runs a hand through them, flipping them up and out of his face. In his peripheral vision, Nursey notices the girl's eyes widen, her jaw dropping slightly. He wonders, absently, if he were to get Chowder to pull out one of his trademark smiles, would the girl actually faint? Probably best not to risk it. "Well, he does have  _your_ alcohol tolerance now. He could be passed out somewhere already." Chowder chirps.

"Hilarious." Nursey deadpans, then pauses. "Shit, you may be right, though."

"Check in with Rans and Holster?" Chowder suggests. "As someone who's had to help pull you out of the LAX house bushes on more than one occasion, I can verify they have, like, a sixth sense when it comes to finding passed out hockey players."

Nursey sticks his tongue out at him. "I'm the life of the party, and you know it."

"Whatever you say, Nursey." Chowder grins at him. Nursey's eyes flick warily into the girl, just in case, but she seems stable, if not a little shell shocked. Nursey can't help but feel a little pleased at her existence- if anyone deserves a fan club, it's Chowder."Let me know if you need help finding him, 'kay?"

"Will do." Nursey gives him a little salute, and begins walking away before stopping, looking back to where Chowder's turned back to the girl, who's started playing with the drawstrings of his Sharks hoodie. Nursey cups his hands to his mouth and calls, "Use protection!" 

Chowder doesn't turn, just lifts his hand up behind his back to flip Nursey off.

 

\---

Nursey finds Dex eventually, perched on the stairs with some girl Nursey doesn’t recognise, Nursey’s leather jacket over her shoulders. Nursey has had simultaneously too much and too little alcohol to be seeing what he’s seeing.

“Hey, um.” Nursey clears his throat, and Dex looks up at him, eyes lidded. “Hey Nursey, I thought you were gonna get me a drink, dude.”

“Got… distracted.” He grins, and the girl giggles. One of her hands is on his thigh. The other keeps patting around his hair, testing the spring of the curls, and Nursey bites back a flare of anger.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, bro?”

Dex rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait.”

“ _Nope_.” Nursey grabs Dex’s arm and pulls him up and down the stairs, towards the kitchen. Dex stumbles as they go, then when they stop, rests back against the wall, presumably because he’d fall over otherwise, arms crossed against his chest as he looks at Nursey petulantly. “God, do I always look this pathetic when I’m wasted?”

“Yeah, well.” Dex rolls his eyes aggressively. “You pathetic is still, like, stupidly attractive, so.”

“Um, thanks… I think.” Nursey purses his lips, steering the conversation back on track. “So, hey, we haven’t talked about this, but I feel like getting with people while in each other’s bodies is off-limits? And, like, morally questionable?”

“Oh, is that what you think?”

Nursey wills himself to be patient. “Yes, Dex. Which is why I just said it.”

Dex shrugs. “I was just talking to her.”

“Didn’t look like that.” Nursey scoffs. “You gave her my jacket, man.”

“You’re right, shouldn’t’ve done that.” Dex sways, pushing away from the wall. “I’ll go get it. Maybe see if she wants to take off anything else.” Oh good, he really is just a heterosexual pile of garbage.

“Dude.” Nursey pushes at Dex’s shoulder, not hard, but enough that Dex hits the wall again. “You are not _fucking_ some _rando_  in _my body_.”

“Course not.” Dex smirks at him. “Never said I was.”

He’s obviously fucking with him, smiling up at Nursey, and Nursey doesn’t spend a lot of time with Dex at parties, so was previously unaware that he’s apparently an annoying asshole when he’s drunk. “Dex, what the fuck.”

“Well _Derek_ , people are a _lot_ more attracted to me when I’m you.” Dex’s head rolls a little against the wall. “Feel like I should take advantage of it while I can.”

“You-“ Nursey honestly cannot believe what’s happening right now. His hands curl at his sides, unconsciously. He supposes that’s Dex’s body responding to how angry he feels, but Nursey really doesn’t know what to do with the urge to punch Dex. He spits out, “You’re a _dick_.” instead.

Dex smiles, lazy and open. “Hey, _chill_.”

Something inside Nursey snaps, and he grabs a fistful of Dex’s- his _own_ \- shirt to yank him forward. “You’re telling me to _fucking_ chill?” His voice raises enough that people turn to look at them. “That’s what you’re doing right now!?”

“Yeahhp.” Dex raises an eyebrow. “We done here?”

Nursey lets go of him, and he falls back against the wall with a heavy thud. “Yeah. We’re fucking done.”

Okay. Fine. Dex wants to piss him off. That is _abundantly_ clear. He turns around and storms away from Dex, towards Ransom, who’s wearing sunglasses indoors and looks disappointed. “Dex,” He starts.

“Don’t wanna hear it, Rans.” Nursey grabs the red cup he’s holding and chugs it- it’s fuller than he expected, and burns going down. He finishes it though, to Ransom’s concerned look. “Thanks, man.”

He heads for the living room, where they’ve pushed the various decrepit Haus furniture out of the way for a makeshift dancefloor. Most people are gathered round the beerpong in the foyer, but there’s a decent crowd of people moving to pulsing, bass-heavy music. Nursey throws off his hoodie- where it lands, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck, and lets himself feel the music.

Dex’s body is slow to respond, obviously used to the way Dex bops back and forth to music like a rhythmless buoy. But Nursey knows how to move, knows how to feel the beat as it runs through his body, and engages unused muscles and movements in Dex’s hips, more hesitant and much less fluid than they would be in his own but it does the trick, until his body is lost to the music.

 

\---

Dex’s head feels heavy. It rolls around his shoulders, trying to balance, as the girl- Dex doesn’t remember her name, if she ever told him- is pressed up against him, kissing his neck. They’re in someone’s room- Shitty’s, maybe? And he’s not really paying attention to her. It’s not like girls do it for him anyway, and he can’t stop thinking about Nursey. His mind is buzzing with the memory of watching Nursey stomp away, and Nursey being an asshole and keeping his girlfriend a secret from the team, and Nursey shouting at him, and Nursey’s jacket, in a heap on the floor. Dex has no idea what he’s trying to do, here, until he realises he might be waiting for Nursey to find them, and get angry with him. _God_ , he’s fucked up. He needs to go home. He needs to find a way to politely get this girl off him and _go home_.

“I’ve never been with a black guy before, you know.” The girl giggles, fingers reaching under Dex’s shirt. It’s Nursey’s, and it’s really soft, and it smells like Nursey’s fabric softener. Probably what makes it so soft. “My mother would _kill me_.”

Dex pulls away from her as her words start to trickle into his brain. “Wait, what?”

Her giggling is getting annoying. “My sisters all say it’s the best, like skydiving- _have_ to try it before you die.”

“I’m-” He shakes his head, blinking as he processes what she’s saying. “Not a fucking theme park ride?”

“Hm? All I heard was _ride_.” She shifts up and straddles him, finger trailing down his chest, stopping at the waist of his jeans. “I’ve heard black guys are _really_ big.”

Nausea hits Dex like a brick. Screw being polite. “Right, get off me.” He pushes her to the side, and she falls back onto the bed.

“Hey-“ She protests, as he stands up. “What’s your problem?”

Dex rubs at his temples. “Do you even know my name?”

She scoffs. “Do you know _mine_?”

“No, but I’m not calling you ‘white girl’ in my head, am I?”

“Wait.” She leans forward. “You’re getting pissy because I called you a black guy? I don't think it's, like, a  _bad_ thing. You're like, chocolate." She raises herself on her knees, obviously trying to be enticing. "And I have a _really_ bad sweet tooth."

Dex stares, mind clouded and entirely unamused. "There's something fucked up about what you just said- I'm, I'm just getting the hang of this but that sounded fucked up even to  _me_."

She pouts up at him. "What?"

"God, I'm not good at this-" Dex presses his hands to his eyelids and applies as much pressure as he can, trying to bully his drunken brain into cooperating enough to form an explanation. "He's not just. He's not  _just_ black, and he's not food, and he- he deserves better than people like you."

She blinks up at him. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" She huffs, crossing her arms against her chest. "If I knew you were  _crazy_ , I never would have come up here with you."

"I'm not  _crazy_ , I'm trying to- you're doing the- the mini thing. The small racist stuff." Dex groans at his own incompetence, but the word completely escapes him, so he settles for saying simply, "You're being racist."

"I'm _not_ a racist." She protests, incredulous. "I was gonna have sex with  _you_ , wasn't I?"

God. When Dex fucks up, he really goes all-out, doesn’t he. “Yeah, um. Go fuck yourself?” He swings the door open (he’s in Bitty’s, judging by the Beyoncé poster, which helps nothing), grabbing Nursey’s jacket from the floor as he does.

“Fuck you too, asshole!” The girl shouts behind him.

Dex staggers down the stairs, gripping the railing. He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, he just wants to go _home_. To his bed, his _own_ bed, not that fucking room where he’s _surrounded_ by Nursey, his smell and his things and the fucking air mattress.

He gets to the bottom of the stairs and pushes through the crowd, coming to a halt in the doorway to the living room. He’s in there- his _body_ can be seen through the crowd of people, Dex’s body, with a guy with short dark hair pressed against the front of him. Dex’s hand is splayed across his chest, Dex’s mouth is whispering something in the guy’s ear, Dex’s hips are grinding against a stranger in the middle of the Haus living room. Dex watches from the doorway, frozen in-shock, horror, _something_. Nursey’s giving a good show, moving Dex’s body in ways it’s never moved before and the guy’s hand is tangled in too-long red hair, his head thrown back, so he’s having fun. That’s good, so good everyone’s having fun. That’s awesome.

Nursey looks up, and Dex is too drunk to be looking into his own eyes while Nursey uses _his body_ to grind on some guy. Nursey runs his tongue along his top lip, slow and suggestive, and winks.

Dex throws up in the kitchen sink.

 

\---

Dex wakes up on the floor of Shitty’s room the next morning, to the sound of someone- probably Holster- singing, the sound coming loud and clear through the floor below him. He’s using Nursey’s jacket as a pillow, and the leather sticks to his face slightly as he pulls away from it, feeling groggy. He sits up, and immediately regrets it. The singing pierces something deep and painful in his brain, and his stomach lurches, heavy with whatever alcohol is left in it. He immediately hunches over, though it doesn’t help much, and groans, loudly and pathetically.

“ _Hard_ same.” Comes Shitty’s voice, mercifully quiet, somewhere to the left of Dex. “Lardo had Holster dump you in here last night, said you were, I quote, ‘in no way prepared for how much things are gonna suck tomorrow’.” Dex groans. Lardo is a wise lady. “There’s stuff next to your right hand.”

Dex squints to the right of him, where a glass of water, two slices of bread, and two white pills sit on one of Bitty’s tea towels. Dex groans out his appreciation.

“I would provide comfort, but I think if I move my body will self-destruct like in that X-Men movie.” Shitty says, as Dex tries to stuff a slice of bread into his mouth and misses on the first attempt. “You sound pretty bad, though. When I said we were drinking to see God, it was hyperbole, not advice, brah.”

Dex drains the glass of water, which soothes the feeling that something’s died in his mouth, and got stuck in his throat on its way down. He shuts his eyes and tries to stay as still as possible. “You don’t seem like you’re in better shape.” Dex rasps out.

“I was celebrating, what’s your excuse?.” Shitty chuckles, then when Dex doesn’t respond, he sighs. “Rans said you and Dex clashed pretty hard last night. Wanna tell a bro what it was about?”

“Not really.”

“Alright, well.” Dex hears the creak of Shitty’s bed. “You know Lards and I are always here for you, right? Don’t tell anyone, but you’re totally her favourite frog.”

That’s touching. “Thanks man.”

They fall into silence, before Shitty speaks up. “Oh, and don’t move too far to your left, someone blew chunks in a big way. As always.”

The singing starts back up again, and Dex groans into the empty bedroom.

 

\---

When he finally feels physically capable of standing up, splashing some water on his face, and staggering downstairs, the singing has finally stopped. He leaves Shitty with an arm thrown over his face, groaning, “Nah, you go, man. I’m just gonna… die, here. Tell Lardo I love her.”

 _Shit_. Dex thinks, as he his hand slides down the railing of the Haus stairs. _Is that something Shitty admits out loud to Nursey?_ He makes his way into the kitchen- his hangover has lessened, but it’s not completely gone, and he desperately needs something warm, carby, and made by Bitty.

“Listen. I think it’s lovely-” Bitty pauses, as Dex enters the kitchen. “Goodness, Nursey, you look like death warmed up. Gimme a minute and I’ll whip something up for you.” He says, as he turns to the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients, pointing a carton of eggs at Ransom and Holster who are sitting at the table, sharing a plate of pancakes. “I think it’s lovely y’all are embracing each other’s cultures, it’s very sweet, but if I hear that song one more time I’m kicking you both out of this kitchen.”

“ _Bits_.” Holster whines. “Fiddler on the Roof is a testament to Jewish identity, the first play I ever watched with my parents, the _reason_ I sing-“

“Adam Birkholtz, it has been an _hour_.” Bitty huffs. “Of. The Same. _Song_.”

“But it’s so catchy!” Ransom chimes in.

Bitty glares at them both, and Dex will never not be amused by the way six-something collegiate hockey players wilt under Bitty’s gaze. “Not another word, from either of you.”

They fall silent, both wearing identical pouts. Dex feels something brush his side, turning towards the contact as Jack slides past him and into the kitchen, hair still wet, presumably from a shower post-morning run.

“You never seem to have a problem listening to the same Beyoncé song for hours at a time, Bittle.” Jack chirps conversationally, as he pulls some juice out of the fridge and a glass from the cabinet.

Bitty points a spatula threateningly at their captain. “Zip it, Zimmermann.”

Jack pours himself some orange juice and leans against the counter, eyes drifting onto Ransom and Holster. He raises the glass. “L’Chaim.”

Even though it in no way helps his hangover, Dex can’t help but laugh when Ransom and Holster _immediately_ bust into song at Jack’s prompting, as Bitty yells in frustration.

As he’s laughing, and wincing, because laughing hurts and Holster and Ransom’s duet is just a bit too loud to be tolerable, he feels a hand on his arm.

He turns, and there’s Nursey, looking much better off than Dex feels, tilting his head towards the front door in a silent question.

And Dex is just. Tired. And his head is steadily throbbing a slow, painful beat. And he just doesn’t have the energy to throw Nursey’s hand off and start fighting, like every instinct he has is telling him to. So he just nods, slowly, and follows Nursey outside.

They sit on the front steps of the Haus, and Dex zips up the leather jacket as the November chill hits him. The street is quiet, save a couple people walk of shaming it out of frat houses. Nursey sits down next to him, knees pulled up to his chest. Their shoulders are almost touching, a proximity Dex hadn’t noticed himself getting used to.

“So.” Nursey holds his exhale, watches as his breath mingles with the cold air. “How was fucking a stranger in my body?”

Right to it then. Dex groans, and for a moment, considers lying. There’s a part of him- a _significant_ part of him- that wants to tell Nursey… he’s not sure what, exactly, but something that will hurt. But most of him can’t think of a reason to do so that would justify it, and is just too tired of lashing out at Nursey to put in the effort to lie. He sighs. “As it turns out, she had kind of. A fetish.”

Nursey snorts, but not in amusement. “Feet?”

“Black guys.”

“Ah.” Nursey nods, slowly. “Yeah, I get that sometimes.”

It’s the first thing that morning that truly irritates Dex, that Nursey sounds like he’s used to shit like that. “Anyway, she was pissing me off,” He shrugs, leaning back and pressing his palms on the cold wood of the steps, bracing himself. “Didn’t go through with it.”

“Oh.” Is all Nursey says.

They fall into silence, Nursey looking out into the street, Dex’s eyes following birds across the sky. After a few seconds, Dex feels like he should say something, but he’s not sure what. He considers an apology, or something to lighten the mood, but what comes out instead is, “How was outing me to the whole team?”

Nursey shoves him with his shoulder, gently. “Haha, very funny.”

It’s an out, a blissfully easy one, but Dex is just. Tired. He’s so fucking tired, so he lets what Nursey said hang in the air, until Nursey turns to him, cautious.

“You are joking, right.” Nursey says quietly, staring.

It occurs to Dex, in a half-hearted sort of way, that he’s coming out to _Nursey_. Nursey, who a few weeks ago Dex wouldn’t have told his middle name to, will be the one person at Samwell who knows this about Dex. He knows Nursey well enough to know there’s no chance of him reacting negatively, or making a big deal out of it, and maybe that’s what makes it easier. Dex doesn’t want it to be something that _defines_ him, or how people treat him. He knows with basically anyone else on the team he’d get loving acceptance and a stream of constant affirmation, but what he needs is someone who’ll take it in stride, unfazed and easy-going. So, Nursey’s kind of perfect.

Doesn’t mean it comes easy. There’s a moment in which Dex considers keeping it to himself, covering the slight slip, but it just doesn’t seem worth it, somehow.

Dex shuts his eyes, inhales, exhales. He opens them and turns to face Nursey head-on. “You know, for someone who has lectured me, multiple times, on not assuming people’s sexualities based on stereotypes, you’re kind of a fucking hypocrite.” His words don’t have any bite to them. He might even be smiling a little.

“You- shit, Dex.” Nursey gapes at him. “I- I had no idea.”

“Like I said, assumptions.”

“But you’re-” Nursey has yet to blink, Dex is fairly sure. “You’re a _republican_.”

Dex shrugs. “Only fiscally.” He watches as Nursey’s surprise turns into a slight scowl, amusingly.

“Of course you are.” Nursey rolls his eyes, then seems to reconsider the motion. “Hey, man, I’ll cover for you, for last night- if anyone asks, I’ll make up something that sounds straight.”

“Uh.” Dex pauses. He’s not sure what he wants- he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of his sexuality, that’s for damn sure, and telling a team of loud, aggressively supportive people who like to sing all the damn time seems overwhelming at best, but. Eventually. Might be kinda nice. “Yeah, I’d appreciate it. At least until I’m… ready.”

“Yeah, ‘course. I got your back, bro. Glad you trust me with this, even if it came out in shit circumstances.” Nursey smiles for the first time that morning. “We cool?”

Dex sighs. “As we’ll ever be.”

Nursey holds out a fist, and Dex makes a face, but bumps his fist into it. “‘Swasome.” He grins. “Oh, hey- did you see my friend Liana last night? She’s got box braids and a septum piercing,” He pinches under his nose, as if to demonstrate. “I got some weird texts from her this morning.”

Oh, and those memories just come rushing back like stormclouds, destroying any trace of Dex’s good mood. “Cut the crap, dude.” Dex rolls his eyes. “She’s not just your friend."

Nursey’s brow furrows. “Sorry, what?”

“Look, I don’t know why you’re keeping your girlfriend a secret from the team, whether you’re trying to maintain this persona of being above that shit, or-“

“Hold on.” The back of Nursey’s hand collides with Dex’s leg, interrupting him. Nursey looks at him, amusement clear in his eyes “You think I’m dating Liana. Liana, my neighbour and definitely platonic friend. The same Liana who transferred me money this morning because I bet her twenty bucks she’d fall half in love with Lardo the moment she saw her. That Liana.” He snorts. “That’s fucking hilarious.”

“I-“ Dex stammers, faced with Nursey’s raised brow. “She called me babe, like, ten times! She asked me if I was coming over later- she said something about our _relationship_.”

“She likes the word babe, dunno what to tell you.” Nursey shakes his head, smile widening. “Relationships can be platonic, or she was kidding, I’d need context- and she lives above me, I met her when I moved in. She was, like, my first non-hockey friend at Samwell, sometimes when one or both of us is coming down from a night out we load up on carbs and watch Steven Universe. It’s chill.”

“Oh.” Dex processes Nursey’s words, feeling a bit idiotic, but also like he doesn’t understand the way Nursey interacts with other human beings. The rational part of his mind, simultaneously, reminds him that he's been living Nursey's life for a solid couple of weeks, and surely at some point he would've been expected to play boyfriend if he had  _actually_ been dating anyone. And he's really, really fucking glad  _that_ never happened.

“Yeah, _oh_.” Nursey chuckles. “Certainly explains the weird texts.” He smiles at Dex, then blinks. “Wait. So you thought I had a secret girlfriend and you were gonna hook up with some rando?” The smile falters; Nursey looks _hurt_. Which is just, ridiculous. “You were gonna make me cheat on my girlfriend?”

“You don’t _have_ a girlfriend, Nurse.”

“ _You_ didn’t know that!” Nursey accuses. “Dex, what the fuck, that’s- did you really want to hurt me that much?”

Dex scoffs. “You _outed me_ to the _entire team_.”

“I didn't _know_ I was outing you! And I haven't even- I mean, c'mon. All I did was grind on some guy for a bit. Shitty gave Jack a lap dance last kegster and no one questioned their sexualities, everyone will just think you were trying to be funny, or it was some kind of dare.” Nursey says disdainfully. “And that wasn’t until _after_ you decided to ruin my life.”

“Fuck’s sake, I wouldn’t’ve ruined _anything_.” Dex protests, almost desperate. He doesn't understand why Nursey is so upset about  _hypotheticals_.

“But you _thought you were_.” Nursey stands up suddenly. “That’s the fucking thing, Dex! You _thought_ I had a girlfriend. You _thought_ you were fucking me over. What, did you imagine she’d come back, walk in on you guys and dump me? Sorry you tried to fuck a racist and didn't get to go through with it, that must have been _really_ disappointing for you." Nursey says, a cruel, mocking edge to his voice. He shakes his head, incredulous. "I'm such an idiot- I actually thought we were getting along for a while, there. Like we could _actually_ be friends but you just- you just _hate_ me, don’t you?”

Dex jumps to his feet, trying to explain, to get the conversation back under control. They were doing so _well_. “Nursey, it’s not- I was, I was just trying-”

“What, Dex. Trying to _what_.”

Trying to hurt Nursey, to get back at Nursey for not telling him, not trusting him. Trying to make Nursey _notice_ him, in the only way he knows how. “I- I was never gonna go through with it.” Dex says, softly, all the fight knocked out of him. “I was just trying to piss you off.”

“ _Why_?” Nursey asks, almost pleads, before wincing. “You know what, I don’t even care. Great job, Dex. You really know how to get under my fucking skin.” He turns and storms into the Haus, slamming the door behind him.

Dex doesn’t even think about following him. The Haus is Nursey’s territory, after all, even when he’s not in his own body.

 

 ---

So. Dex might have feelings for Nursey.

It’s a thought running on repeat in his mind as he sits on Nursey’s couch, head in his hands, along with a constant mental replay of Nursey, hurt and angry and disappointed. It’s the only explanation that makes sense, rationally, as much as Dex tries to find another. When he met that girl- Liana, he remembers- he felt disoriented, like he was gonna be sick, though at the time he blamed it on the alcohol. He recognised that he felt hurt, and told himself it was because he thought he and Nursey were becoming friends, but Nursey didn’t trust him enough to tell him about his girlfriend. Then there was that girl, who kept shivering, and the Haus was drafty and it’s _November_ , and Dex offered his jacket because she smiled at him, and kept playing with his hair, and Dex was happy to have someone notice him, pursue him, instead of the other way around. Then he had steadily more to drink, and his abject denial filter stopped working so well, so when Nursey grabbed his hand and pulled him away, Dex knows that he was saying whatever he thought would get Nursey’s hands on him again.

 _His_ hands.

Which is where everything gets a little fucked up in Dex’s brain. Because Nursey _looks_ like Dex. He’s got Dex’s body. But he talks like Nursey, and moves like him, and makes the same annoying faces Nursey does, enough that Dex sometimes forgets. And Dex liked Nursey’s body way before Nursey’s personality stopped making him angry. So he figures the attraction is to Nursey, not some weird masturbatory crisis. Besides, Dex really isn’t his own type. That is something he knows for _sure_ , after weeks of having to look at himself, constantly mentally criticising the haircut, the asymmetric break in his nose (which is definitely there, _mom_ ), the _ears_.

But the bigger issue is that Dex is pretty sure, when he digs past lingering annoyance towards Nursey and a definitely healthy amount of denial, that all the signs point to him having capital F feelings for Nursey. And, of course, he had this realisation when he let himself into Nursey’s room, finding it as he knew it would be, empty and quiet and cold with wall to wall reminders of Nursey.

Also, he’s still hungover. So things are going _great_.

Dex showers off the last traces of the kegster, grabs breakfast from the dining hall when he realises that he, for the second time, got so caught up in an argument with Nursey that he left the Haus without food. He gets back to Nursey’s and throws himself into coding, and when that’s not enough to keep his mind off how majorly he’s fucked up his life, resorts to the logic puzzle app on his phone. Though he’s pretty sure nothing he’s ever done since deciding to enrol in Samwell would show it, Dex likes working through things logically. His mom picked him up his first book of logic puzzles when he was doing SAT prep, and they’ve been a way for him to easily remove himself from life stress when he doesn’t have something to take apart with his hands, or he’s too burnt out to do so.

They’re a nice distraction, especially when hours pass and Nursey’s nowhere to be seen. So he’s driven Nursey from his own dorm, great for the conscience. At eleven, he gets ready for bed; they have mid-morning practice on Sundays, so there’s no real reason to turn in early, but he’s exhausted.

He’s got the lights off and is curled up on the air mattress, scrolling through his Facebook feed on his phone, when he hears a key turning in the door. Dex shuts his phone off, because he’s a coward, and cowards pretend to be asleep at times like these. As Nursey enters the room and tiptoes around, obviously trying not to wake Dex (whether that’s courtesy or avoiding having to talk to him, Dex isn’t sure), Dex is comforted by the fact that Nursey came back to the room, instead of crashing with Chowder or at the Haus because he couldn't stand to be in the same space as Dex. It’s something, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we all know fic isn't check please fic without two things: a shaky knowledge of hockey proceedings, and binge-drinking induced drama
> 
> also feat: misdemeanours! jewish musicals! artemis fowl references! girls of all kinds! zimbits chirping! dex forgetting what micro-aggressions are called!!
> 
> i mentioned it a little earlier but to flesh out my nursey's mom's family headcanon: nursey's great grandma was born and lived in oaxaca, mexico, all her life. nursey's grandfather was born in oaxaca but moved to the us and married a black woman. nursey's birth mom is thus half black, half indigenous mexican, and was raised in the lower east side of manhattan. as an extension of this headcanon, nursey's mom grew up in a very jewish neighborhood, and new york in general is very jewish, and mexicans are pretty darn catholic, and rayah, nursey's other mom, is muslim. basically what i'm trying to say is that nursey had a very interesting spiritual upbringing and bonds hardcore with jack and holster about traditional jewish food and that last bit is absolutely canon
> 
> anyway those are all the notes i have for this chapter, just wanna say that again, i've been floored by all the responses to this fic and i'm so, so happy i've been able to write fic that people enjoy and hope to continue to do so with the last few chapters. home stretch, guys!


	6. Chapter 6

Dex wakes up the next morning feeling strangely calm- even optimistic. Comfortable, and warm, surrounded by soft fluffy blankets that seem strangely unfamiliar, and when he blinks his eyes open he sees a leafy plant hovering above his head, which isn’t where it should-

He sits up.

He’s in Nursey’s bed. Dex is in Nursey’s bed, and when he looks down to the floor, Derek Nurse is sprawled out across the air mattress, back in his body where he belongs. Oh thank _fuck_. It feels like every cell in his body is simultaneously sighing in relief.

Dex leaps out of bed and onto the floor beside the air mattress. He pauses, just for a second- there’s something that startles him about seeing Nursey’s body from an outside perspective again, after all this time. It feels more familiar, somehow, to be looking at him and not a reflection. Nursey’s eyelashes are longer than he remembers, or maybe he just never really looked at them before.

When the fact that he’s watching Nursey sleep like a stalker catches up to him, he wills himself not to be a goddamn Twilight extra and get on with it. “Nursey,” He hisses, reaching over to shake him slightly. “Nursey, wake up.”

“Nrgh.” Is the response he gets, Nursey half-asleep and lazily swatting at Dex’s arm.

“Nursey, I’m serious, wake the fuck up.”

Nursey groans, and turns over, away from Dex, hands coming up around his head. “Don’ wanna.”

Dex shakes him harder. “Oh my god you’re the worst, just _wake up_ -“

“Fine, _fine._ ” Nursey groans, and pulls himself up to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes. “What time is it?”

Oh for fuck’s sake. “ _Nursey_ ,” Dex pleads. “Look at me.”

Nursey moves his hands away from his eyes and blinks tiredly at Dex, twice, before his eyes spring open and he sits ramrod straight. “ _No.”_ He says, awe-struck.

“We switched back.” Dex says, not bothering to restrain his smile. Nursey’s eyes are bright, his hair sleep mussed and a wide smile growing on his lips. It’s a true, genuine smile, none of his smirks or half-hearted grins. At that moment, Dex finds himself very aware of his heartbeat.

“Shit, I-.” Nursey says, looking down at his arms excitedly. “Holy shit, _Dex!”_

Dex suddenly finds himself with an armful of Derek Nurse as Nursey _flings_ himself at him, wrapping him up in an excited hug that nearly topples them both, Dex bracing himself on one arm just in time to catch him.

“Oh thank _fuck_.” Nursey exhales, as Dex feels his face warm- something he definitely had not missed. What he had missed, or- no, you can’t miss what you’ve never had, he didn’t miss the feeling of Nursey in his arms, warm and solid, a steady comforting presence, because he’s never felt it before, so he gorges himself on the moment, willing it to last. Which is, of course, when Nursey tenses, letting go of Dex slowly and pulling away, eying him warily. “...so. Just remembered I’m mad at you.”

Well, that was nice while it lasted. “Oh.”

Nursey looks at him expectantly, before rolling his eyes. Dex wonders if it should be worrying, how much he’s missed Nursey’s face looking at him in annoyance. Maybe he’s just missed everything about Nursey’s face. “Wanna give apologising and explaining another go, or?”

Dex swallows roughly. He practiced this in his head at least fifty times the night before, he can do this. “She was cold. I gave her my- _your_ jacket because she was cold, but then you started accusing me and I’m not even _attracted to girls_ , and I just wanted to piss you off. I wasn’t gonna do anything.” It’s the truth, albeit omitting a couple of details that Dex doesn’t feel like sharing. "I wasn't even thinking about- the girlfriend I thought you had." That's definitely true, he was thinking about Nursey, and only Nursey.

Nursey squints at him, assessing, then lets out a drawn out sigh. “I think I believe you.” He sighs. “I _really_ wanna believe you weren’t trying to fuck me over.”

“I _wasn’t_.” Dex says, in a tone that leaves no room for doubt.

“Okay, Dex, chill, I get it.” Nursey teases, a smile pulling at his lips. "Oh, I, um. Checked with the guys. Said we had some argument about who had the most game, or something, and that I had bet you you wouldn't be able to pull a dude. Most of them didn't even notice me dancing with him, but Shitty did kind of make his 'problematic straight behaviour' face, so you might have to endure a lecture about that later, but yeah, no one thinks you're- y'know. Less than heterosexual."

"Oh." Dex says softly, a little shocked. "That- I didn't expect you to still want to cover for me after... everything."

Nursey raises an eyebrow. "Dude, I could've _outed_ you." He frowns slightly. "I- well. I thought, even if you did try and fail to ruin my life, I don't want to fuck up yours. "

"Nursey, I  _swear_ , I wasn't-"

" _Dex_." Nursey interrupts, reaching out to place a silencing hand on Dex's thigh, where it's knelt next to the air mattress. He gives Dex a firm look, their faces close enough that Dex can see the dark rim of green in his eyes. "It's _fine_ , seriously. We both got drunk, and stupid, and did some dumb shit, but nothing did lasting damage. Dunno about you, but I like being friends. Don't really wanna spend the first days back in our own bodies fighting and hung up on stupid mistakes, if that's cool with you."

Dex feels his face warm- though if it's from Nursey's words or his hand on his thigh is anyone's guess- and he nods, slowly. "I-  yeah. I like us better when we get along."

Nursey  _beams_ at him. It's staggeringly bright, and crinkles around his eyes. "Man," He says, still leaning on Dex's thigh, and therefore much closer to Dex than Dex is used to. "Not for nothing, but this would be the perfect time to hug it out." Dex's face warms, and he opens his mouth to respond before Nursey holds out his fist, cutting him off. "I will settle for a celebratory fist bump."

Dex tries his best not to feel disappointed, and ignores the nagging voice in his head that tells him a braver man would go for the hug, anyway. He bumps his fist against Nursey's, and tries to avert his eyes without being obvious about it. Dex is no poet, but if he had to compare Nursey to anything, it'd be the sun. Mostly because looking at him directly is difficult and probably detrimental to his health.

Nursey sighs, content. “Hey, what time is…” He trails off, leaning around Dex to look at the clock on his bedside table. “ _Nice_ , we’ve still got almost two hours before practice.” He jumps up, heading to the closet that houses his hockey gear. “I wanna get to the rink early, get back into the zone.”

Without Nursey in close proximity, Dex's breathing comes a lot easier. Dex probably needs a long walk, or a nap, or something. Something that involves as little of Nursey as possible. “Yeah, I’ll,” Dex glances around the room. “I’ll pack up my stuff and get out of your hair.”

Nursey pauses, facing away from Dex and into his closet, and doesn’t respond for a second. “Huh, for a second there I forgot you didn’t live here.” He turns and smiles. “Bet it’ll be nice to be back in your own room again.”

Yeah, his own room, that he shares with a Physics major who doesn’t talk to him, respects his space, has never sexiled him, and listens to his music with headphones in. He’s like, the perfect roommate, so it’d be silly of Dex to miss sleeping on an air mattress in Derek ‘you listen to my music or you find a way to stop hearing things’ Nurse’s dorm room.

“Hey, I'mma hop in the shower.” Nursey says, when Dex forgets to respond.

Dex smiles at him. “Oh, yeah, sure. See you at practice.”

Nursey smiles back, then walks into the bathroom, leaving Dex to pack.

 

\---

When Nursey finally gets down to the rink, it’s like a part of his soul shifts back into place.

He’s pretty sure Dex didn’t get his need to immediately be back on his skates, but that’s understandable. For Dex, hockey is a requirement, something he _needs_ to be good at, and put his all into, because his scholarship is conditional upon it. And as much fun as it may be, it’s hard to always love your job.

For Nursey, however, playing hockey is the only time he feels balanced, confident, capable. He’s more graceful and agile on the ice, more sure of himself. He can let himself get mad on the ice and no one ever whispers ‘thug’ or calls him uncivilised, they _cheer_. Hockey and poetry are necessary to Nursey in different ways, but for a lot of the same reasons. He gets twitchy if he goes too long without either, never feels more sure of himself than when he has a pen or a hockey stick in his hands. And spending _weeks_ unbalanced and unsure on the ice, unable to get his body to move the way he wanted to- felt like he was missing a fundamental part of himself. Not quite as much as when he looked in the mirror and saw white skin looking back at him, but close.

He slides effortlessly around the ice, getting his body back under control after weeks of it following someone else’s instincts and instructions. He does quick stops and figure eights, spins around the goal. Nothing too exerting, they do have practice in an hour, but enough to feel at home again.

Nursey is suddenly hyperaware of his movements, which usually means someone is watching him. He slides to a stop, and sees Jack leaning over the bench.

“Don’t let me stop you.” Jack says, as Nursey skates smoothly over to him. 

“Nah man,” He halts in front of the bench, offering his fist to bump in greeting. “Just letting off a little steam, don’t want to overexert before practice.”

Jack nods, approvingly, accepting the fist bump. “Good call. Hey,” He pats Nursey on the shoulder. “Good to see you and Dex switched back.”

Which sort of throws Nursey, honestly, because Lardo and Chowder had both assured them they wouldn’t tell anyone. Which means Jack figured it out himself, _and_ can see that Nursey's back to normal. Which is… _astonishing._ “How could you tell?”

Jack frowns, visibly confused. “I know how my defensemen skate.” He says simply, as if it should be obvious.

“…right.” Nursey says slowly, because it’s apparently time to have his daily realisation that he just does not understand Jack Zimmermann. “You’re… remarkably cavalier about the fact that Dex and I just spent a fortnight living in each other’s bodies, something that should be scientifically impossible.”

Jack sighs, long-suffering, as he looks out onto the ice. “I’ve been at Samwell for four years. Eventually you just get used to these things.”

Which honestly may be the scariest thing anyone has ever said to him.

After a second, Jack snaps out of whatever flashbacks he was having, and gives Nursey a small smile. “Take another couple of laps, eh?” He suggests, nodding towards the ice. “Always helps me make sense of things.”

He nods once, and walks back towards the locker room.

_Jack fucking Zimmermann._ Nursey shakes his head, disbelieving, staring at where Jack had been, before slowly returning to his skating.

 

\---

Practice starts at noon, and everything goes back to normal. Well, not exactly normal. Dex and Nursey are on top of their game, back where they belong and riding the high of it all. The coaches pick up on it, and so does everyone on the team- Chowder smiles knowingly at them for most of practice.

It’s just that Nursey had expected, well. In Dex’s defence it _is_ a Sunday, and he must miss being in his dorm and have work for the upcoming week, but the rush he’s in to get out of the locker room and the hurried excuse he gives when Nursey suggests grabbing lunch together is a bit disappointing. Dex can do what he wants, whatever, but Nursey had hoped after everything, after weeks of being attached at the hip, they’d be able to, well, actually hang out together. 

But that doesn’t happen. Nursey and Chowder walk back from practice together on Sunday, and he doesn’t hear anything from Dex for the rest of the day. Nursey wakes up at eight the next morning and checks his phone on impulse for messages from Dex, whose hilarious disgruntled text rants have become a highlight of his day, and finds only early morning snapchats from Chowder. Dex is probably already out on a morning run like the masochist he is, Nursey tells himself instead of being disappointed, and anyway, it’s only eight am. Dex not messaging him before eight am could be a welcome sign that Dex is losing some of that horrible morning person attitude, not that they’re gonna lose all the progress they’ve made. Nursey sends Dex a snap from under the covers, highlighting his bedhead and disgruntled half-asleep expression, with the caption ‘bet u missed seeing this in the mirror’, just to initiate some kind of conversation, even if it is Dex chirping him.

Nursey showers, dresses, and heads to racist nine am, something he has _definitely_ not missed about being in his own body. The class runs as it always does; Nursey refuses to let the professor talk over him, the assholes sipping Kombucha at the back of class still don’t bother pretending they're not talking about Nursey, the professor comments on the ‘places an athletics scholarship will take you’ while looking directly at him, and Nursey says a prayer of thanks to any deity listening that Dex didn’t go on, like, a murder spree the times he had to deal with an hour of this shit. He has no idea how Dex controlled his temper, which, Nursey knows from experience, is hair-trigger and unrelenting.

Nursey suddenly remembers that he never did ask Dex what exactly he did to Logan Roberts when the seminar lets out. Nursey bumps into Logan on the way out the door, and instead of the usual poorly phrased but condescending words Nursey is used to coming out of his mouth at any given moment, he gets a nervously muttered, “Sorry Derek.” as Logan slides around him and out the door. Whatever it was, _ill-conceived_ as it was, Nursey can’t exactly bring himself to hold it against Dex, as he smiles to himself. It must have been fairly subtle as well- which confuses Nursey since Dex’s anger is about as subtle as a freight train- because Logan didn’t file a complaint, nor did Professor Miller issue Derek any sort of formal warning, which Nursey knows he would not be able to resist if given opportunity.

He might just have to thank Dex one day.

If Dex ever talks to him again, that is. Dex opens the early morning snap (Nursey checks) but doesn’t respond, and Nursey doesn’t hear anything about his programming class, which Nursey has _been to_ , and knows how hilarious the guy who manages to crash his computer twice in an hour is. There’s plenty to message about there. But of all the messages Nursey receives that night, none are from Dex. 

Nursey is… confused, honestly. At practice Monday evening they play just as well as on Sunday, and they actually get along, though Dex doesn’t talk to him much. Or, as much as they did when they were switched. It’s the same with practice Tuesday morning; Dex isn’t ignoring him, or openly hostile, but it feels similar to how Nursey talks to anyone on the team that isn’t a frog, Lardo or living in the Haus- teammate camaraderie, nothing more. So that’s how it’s gonna be, then. Nursey can make peace with that- he’s disappointed, sure, but maybe his expectations were just a bit too high.

Then, Tuesday afternoon, there's a knock at Nursey's door. When he opens it, Dex is standing there, plastic bag from murder stop n’shop in hand. “So, remember when you mentioned you hadn’t seen the Mighty Ducks and essentially sucker-punched my childhood?” Dex says, instead of, like, a normal human greeting.

“Um,” Nursey crosses his arms across his chest, amused. “No?”

“Well, you did.” Dex says with certainty. “You play _hockey,_ and you haven’t seen the Mighty Ducks.”

“You play hockey and haven’t seen Goon.” Nursey counters.

Dex frowns. “Why would I want to see something that conforms to compulsory heterosexuality?”

Nursey laughs; he didn’t think Dex would remember. “Because Doug is pure sunshine, there’s a hot French-Canadian, and you have no idea what being sucker punched in the childhood is until you see Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon in real life.”

“You had me at hot French-Canadian.” Dex says, then holds up the plastic bag. “I brought snacks.” He pauses. “You gonna let me in, or?”

“Do I have a choice?” Nursey teases, as he moves out of the way and Dex walks past him and into his room. 

They pile up a bunch of Nursey’s blankets and pillows on his rug, and sit, backs against the couch, their legs pressed together as Nursey sits cross-legged. They decide on Mighty Ducks first, and Dex pulls out bags of popcorn and sour candy, and bicker over the chocolates Dex bought (“It’s the only chocolate I truly love, Dex, c’mon.” “Over my dead body, Nurse.” “I know you’re trying to be tough about this but make no mistake, I would happily trade your life for a _single_ Reese’s peanut butter cup.” in the end, they decide to share).

Dex stays past the movies, the two of them facing each other and passing what’s left of the snacks back and forth as they talk about a little bit of everything. 

“Who do you root for, again?” Dex says, after the subject of Jack’s impending signing is breached, nudging Nursey with his foot. It stays there, resting against Nursey’s calf, and Nursey likes the contact. Not long ago he would have been hesitant to touch Dex anywhere for fear it would accidentally piss him off, now they’re actually comfortable in each other’s space.

Nursey brings his thoughts back to Dex’s question. He shrugs before answering, “Any teams that don’t condone racism and have prominent players of colour.”

“You-“ Dex squints at him. “That’s not how picking a team works.”

“No quicker way to my heart, man.” Nursey says by way of explanation, and Dex shakes his head, but grins.

“I guess I can understand that.” His bangs shake loose, and he runs a hand through them absently to push them back, soft orange strands sticking up slightly with his handling.

Nursey quirks an eyebrow. “You still haven’t gotten that haircut, I see. Going for Shitty Junior?”

Dex’s ears are a warm pink in an instant. “Fuck off, no I’m just- trying it out a bit longer.”

“I’m feelin’ it.” Nursey nods his approval. “You’ve got nice hair, man. I almost miss getting to run my hands through it everyday.”

The red on the tips of Dex’s ears darkens and spreads to his cheeks. Dex never did do well with compliments; he’s suspicious of them, expecting chirps to follow, no matter how sincerely they’re delivered. “Really?”

“ _Almost_ ,” Nursey clarifies, chuckling as Dex makes a face. “I mean, your hair’s mad soft, bro, and mine doesn’t exactly suit being played with, but I wouldn’t trade these curls.”

Dex groans. “Vain fucker.”

“Not my fault I’m pretty.” Nursey counters jokingly, as Dex kicks him half-heartedly in the knee. “You can’t tell me you’re not happy to be back in our own bodies.” Nursey stretches out his arms, groaning contentedly as something pops in his back and his eyes fall closed.

When Dex doesn’t respond for a moment, Nursey reopens his eyes and looks back at him. “You aren’t?”

Dex blinks at him, snapping out of whatever’s occupying his thoughts. “No I, I am, definitely. Such a fucking relief. It did have its moments, though; wasn’t all bad.”

Nursey can’t argue; it was fun, occasionally, and it means they’re actually getting along now, which is a massive fucking improvement. “Nah, it wasn’t.” Nursey agrees, settling back against the couch and smiling at Dex as he grabs more jellybeans. Dex’s foot is still resting against Nursey’s leg, familiar and unforced, and everything just feels good. They’re finally, _finally_ friends.

 

\---

It occurs to Dex that maybe, when he first came to Samwell, his subconscious had a damn good reason for not wanting to get to close to Derek Nurse, or spend too much time around him, and that was why he picked so many fights. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he realised what Nursey had the potential to do to him.

Dex is _embarrassing_. 

Dex is genuinely embarrassed for himself at any given moment he isn’t interacting with Nursey, for all the things he does when he _is_. Dex is _pathetic_ around Nursey. 

He thought he’d give himself some space for a few days after they switched back, see if whatever he’s feeling for Nursey is just caused by prolonged proximity and sexual frustration. So he detoxes, talks to Nursey only when necessary and takes measures to avoid running into him on campus (he does know his schedule, after all). It doesn’t exactly help his efforts when Nursey sends him a snap from _bed_ , curls wild and his lips, soft and flush, curled into a half pout. In fact, that snap mostly just results in Dex banging his head repeatedly against the wall. But he stays away most of Sunday and Monday, and he deludes himself into thinking it’s helping.

Dex loses all hope of the attraction being fleeting during practice the Monday after they switch back. 

The first practice on Sunday had been about learning to understand his body again, focusing on how he skated and the rush of _rightness_ he felt moving around the rink. He hadn’t payed attention to much else. On Monday, however, his gaze keeps falling back to Nursey, the way he moves, the way he grins from under his helmet, and beams when he gets a puck past Chowder. This is Nursey in his element, Dex realises. Nursey is happiest tucked outdoors somewhere, reading or scribbling in a notebook, and when he’s surrounded by his friends on the hockey rink. At one point Nursey and Dex, after a solid forty-five minutes of running breakout drills, are sent to the bench with the rest of the defensemen to drink some water while they switch to offensive drills. Dex is almost smug with how well the drills went; he and Nursey were connecting like Ransom and Holster- effortlessly smooth, and right where they needed to be.

Nursey pulls off his helmet, curls squashed in some places and sticking out in others, shining with sweat and face as close to flushed as Nursey’s gets, and smiles at Dex, proud and shining with happiness. It feels like a punch in the gut. Dex thinks, again, about how similar looking at Nursey is to looking directly at the sun, except it's a faulty metaphor, because the sun is just some stupid ball of fire in the sky. It _pales_ in comparison to Derek Nurse's smile. He’s grateful he’s so flushed from exertion that his face can’t really get any warmer or more red, but it makes an attempt to do so, anyway. 

Nursey exhales in satisfaction. “I’m starting to think they were right about us, Poindexter.” Nursey says, nudging Dex (who is just trying to drink his water in peace without Nursey’s perfect face looking at him like that) with his shoulder. “We do have chemistry.”

Which is the precise moment when normal Dex is replaced by embarrassing Dex, who decides to try to inhale his water and chokes on it, spewing half a mouthful out and onto his lap before breaking into a coughing fit.

He waves Nursey away when he tries to help him- he doesn’t want or need Nursey’s concerned eyes and hands on him- and Holster, on the other side of Dex, thumps his back a couple times as Dex stops wheezing and catches his breath again. His face is _burning._

“Jeez Dex, drink water much?” Nursey chirps with a smirk, and Dex ignores him, going to fill up his water bottle again, and then they’re called out to help with offensive drills, and Dex is blissfully free of Nursey in close proximity for another hour and a half.

Afterwards in the locker room they’re all riding on endorphins from a good practice, with nowhere to be but holed up somewhere studying, so it’s no surprise that Ransom and Holster have dug up some speakers and are blasting music Dex only partially recognises while everyone strips and showers and dances, taking their time leaving. Dex leans back in his stall, relishing the feeling of sore, satisfied muscles and things being back to normal- well, a normal that includes less arguments with Nursey and more being hyperaware of everything Nursey does.

Ransom queues up something, pointing at Nursey, who’s looking for his deodorant with only a towel wrapped around his waist, as whatever Nicki Minaj song was playing fades out, and something Dex doesn’t recognise starts pumping through the speakers.

The rhythm is heavy and has even Dex bobbing along to it, before Nursey seems to register the beat and his head pops up from inside his stall, groaning appreciatively. “ _Cabrón,”_ He grins at Ransom, and the two of them seem to know the words to the song, moving together to the beat- rolling muscles and shifting hips and Dex suddenly feels a lot more on edge than he was moments before. It’s like a car crash that he can’t turn away from, if car crashes were seductive and playful and had an inconsiderate amount of muscles.

No one's paying any attention to Dex at that point, which is lucky, because he's staring at Nursey like he's the second coming. He watches, and wishes, and  _wants_. Nursey moves like he skates, except different in all the ways that make life difficult for Dex. There's the same fluidity and confidence and subtle mischief, but when he skates, there's all this power that breaks to the surface, and severity in his expression that means you have to really  _look_ for the undertones of everything else (and Dex is absolutely _not_ thinking about when, exactly, he noticed all of this shit about Nursey). When he dances, though, it's all mischief and confidence and love for what he's doing, and a smile like nothing Dex has ever seen. Plus, when he skates, he's wrapped in a shit-ton of padding, not literally just in a goddamn towel, muscles and miles of gorgeous dark skin on display.  

Dex pulls his gaze away finally, with some difficulty. He glances away from Nursey and immediately meets Holster's gaze, fixed on  _him_ , eyes full of curiosity and shock. Holster tilts his head in confusion, asking Dex a silent question Dex has no interest in answering. Well,  _fuck_. Apparently one person _was_ paying attention to Dex. One person who, historically, has all the tact and subtlety of a car crash, noticed Dex drooling over his teammate in the locker room like a goddamn cliché. So. Dex is screwed.

Dex looks down, pretending to examine the tape on his stick as his face flushes. He doesn't see Holster approach, but hears the way he situates in the stall next to Dex with a sigh. “If it helps, it’s probably, like, a defensemen thing.” He says, low enough that Dex barely registers his words over the music.

"Don't know what you're talking about.” Dex doesn't look up, but the way his ears burn probably means he's not fooling anyone. 

A pause. "Dude, I'm not gonna tell anyone, don't worry."  


"There's nothing to  _tell_ , Holster." Dex says, looking up finally, and fixing Holster with a stern gaze.

Holster raises an eyebrow, and pulls off his glasses, wiping them on his t-shirt. "Whatever you say, little dude. But hypothetically, if I were to, whilst pining over Ransom from afar, notice you watching Nursey in a distinctly piney manner, and you, hypothetically, had a minor meltdown over Nursey getting with a girl at the kegster on Friday and nearly choked to death over a compliment from Nursey about an hour ago and you, in this completely hypothetical situation, ever wanted to talk about it, I would be there for you, bro." He puts his glasses back on, and acknowledges the horror that must be clear on Dex's face (also, _he_ wasn't the one who lost his shit at the kegster, but life isn't fair, apparently). "Like I said, I can relate."

"Um." Dex gapes. "No?"

"No to which part?"

Dex makes an abortive gesture with his hand. "All of it?" Not that he doesn't appreciate Holster's attempts to bond over attraction to their fellow d-men, but. Anything he's feeling for Nursey is  _nothing_ he wants to talk about. He'd much rather go with his gut and find a nice hole in the ground to live out his days in mortified solitude.

Holster shrugs, pushing his glasses up his nose. "If you say so." He braces his hands on his knees, preparing to stand. "For the record, though? I think you've got a shot, which is more than most of us can say."

Dex blinks. He really does not understand this fucking hockey team. He stares after Holster, and watches as Ransom's face lights up when he sees him, and how Ransom immediately pulls Holster into his arms and incorporates him into the dance, moving Holster in time to the music with steady hands on his hips. In no  _universe_ does Dex have more of a chance with Nursey than Holster does with Ransom, who is his literal goddamn soulmate.

After he shakes off the confusion Holster has left him in, Dex packs up his shit faster than he ever has before, leaving with some bullshit excuse about needing to go to Founder’s while Nursey’s still in a towel.

So, yeah. He has feelings for Nursey. They’ve been a long time coming, and he’s not really sure what to do with them, but he gives up on trying to ignore or deny them; if Adam goddamn Birkholtz could see them from across the locker room, they're not something that can be swept under the rug. He just needs some time to process.

Dex processes Monday night and half of Tuesday, until Tuesday afternoon finds him at Nursey’s dorm, bag of snacks in hand, not entirely sure what he’s doing or how he got to that point. He was just missing spending time with Nursey, and he’s got a bag filled with stuff Nursey likes and an excuse to hang out, which he hopes is reason enough for Nursey to let him in and not, like, misinterpret what Dex is doing as romantic. Which it kind of is, but he doesn’t want _Nursey_ to know that. He’s pretty sure watching hockey movies is the least romantic possible option, so he should be safe.

He spends a lot of Mighty Ducks watching Nursey, making sure he’s enjoying the film and doesn’t think the whole thing- and Dex by extension- is stupid. He fights Nursey over the candy, because the alternative is admitting that he knew they were Nursey’s favourites when he bought them. Then they watch Goon, and Dex is treated to another side of Nursey, and wonders, not for the first time, how he ever thought he was chill and unaffected. It’s obvious from the opening fight that Nursey _loves_ this film- he’s full of trivia about it and the real person it was inspired by, he tenses during the fight scenes even though he definitely knows how they end, and rolls his eyes whenever the love interest appears on screen. Nursey makes a good point; Dex has to admit, he likes the film much better if the two teammates who started with so much animosity see past their differences, learn to support each other on the ice, and get together in the end. Just a personal preference. 

It’s not the type of movie Dex would’ve expected Nursey to enjoy when he first met him, but Nursey has very confusing tastes. He’s overheard him and Lardo talking about movies before- they discussed cinematography, colour theory and directorial style of Oscar winners and Indie films with the same reverence that they did Pacific Rim- and Dex quickly gave up on trying to follow along or understand what genre of movie either of them preferred. 

When the film ends, Nursey doesn’t imply Dex should leave or mention work he should be doing, so Dex stays. They talk about a lot of things that don’t matter, and a couple things that do, and they still tease each other and disagree on things, but everything feels nicer, now; the differences remain but they’ve gotten all the animosity out of their systems. They end up facing each other and eventually Nursey compliments his hair, and makes a comment about running his hands through it- which brings a _flood_ of mental images into Dex’s brain, some innocent, some not so much. He can feel his face go bright red at the thought of it, which Nursey is nice enough not to comment on. Feeling bold, Dex lets his foot rest on Nursey’s thigh, which turns out to be a mistake. Nursey doesn’t react or flinch away from it, but Dex spends an embarrassing amount of time fixated on it- is he putting too much pressure, does Nursey think Dex was trying to play footsie but didn’t want to reject him and makes things awkward, he can’t let it go slack or he’ll definitely be putting too much pressure on Nursey’s leg and that’ll make him uncomfortable- then  he gets distracted when Nursey stretches- lips falling open in contentment as he groans, satisfied by the way his body twists with him- and forgets to respond to Nursey, taking a few moments to even _remember_ what they were talking about. 

So. Nursey probably knows. He just isn’t saying anything because they’ve just started to think of each other as friends, and he doesn’t want to make things awkward, unlike Dex, who’s been almost exclusively thinking about kissing Nursey for at least an hour and a half. Nursey is far more likely to let him down gently than punch him for it, at least, which is a vast improvement from the last guy Dex was into.

“Hey, how’s that creative writing project going?” Dex asks eventually, when the conversation lulls; he was in the seminar when it was assigned, and Nursey had seemed really excited about it when Dex relayed the details to him.

Nursey brightens. “Oh, yeah, really good actually. I’m doing a crown of sonnets, just to be extra.” He chuckles. “Though, this one girl is doing sestinas, so she may have me beat.”

“Right, cause I definitely know what either of those things are.” Dex teases; he used to find it annoying as fuck when Nursey used art or literary terms Dex didn’t understand- it felt like he was rubbing it in that he was so much more cultured than Dex was. That was before he realised how much Nursey _likes_ sharing what he knows, no matter how many things Dex needs clarification on- they didn’t exactly go over Chekov’s gun in his highschool English class- he’s always happy to explain, like he’s letting Dex in on a really cool secret. 

Dex usually pays a bit more attention than he does that night, but he zones out, watching Nursey explain something about stanzas and formatting, how expressive he gets as he explains, the way his mouth forms the words. They’re closer now, as well, Nursey having moved to have better access to the candy, which means he can feel Nursey’s body heat against his thighs, smell the slightest hint of aftershave. It’s late. Dex can’t be faulted for getting distracted.

Dex has had a lifetime to get used to wanting things he can’t have- things he couldn’t afford, scholarships he didn’t have the grades for- reaching back from his first crush (his brother’s best friend) and extending, through the years, to Nursey, sitting in front of him and patiently explaining poetry. Never far from Dex’s side and yet just out of reach. He’s had practice wanting, and knows that there are some things he will just never have, no matter how much he aches for them. So he sits, and listens, Nursey’s body warm where it brushes against his own, and it feels like it could be enough. 

“What’re you writing sonnets about, then? Or- who?” Dex asks, when Nursey finishes. He did _take_ English classes in highschool, he knows that sonnets are usually romantic.

“I just finished one about Jack, actually.” 

Dex feels his eyebrows shoot up as he looks at Nursey in shock. He understands, when he thinks about it- Jack is attractive in a constantly-tired kind of way, and has a commanding presence, and is essentially a god on the ice, and, like. He’s sure plenty of other people have _already_ written sonnets about that ass. But he just doesn’t seem like Nursey’s type, not that he knows Nursey’s type, but- there’s just no way in hell Dex can compete with _Jack Zimmermann._

Nursey notices the look on his face, and bursts out laughing. “Dude, you’ll catch flies.” He leans over and uses his index finger to put a bit of pressure on the underside of Dex’s jaw, pushing it closed. Dex’s cheeks warm, predictably, but Nursey doesn’t seem to notice as he leans back. “I swear we’ve talked about non-romantic sonnets before, don’t trip- I’m not lusting after Zimmermann.”

“…Right.” Dex says, when he finds his voice again.

Nursey rolls his eyes. “I’ve also done one on Bitty, Chowder, and joint ones for Ransom and Holster and Shitty and Lardo. The theme is different kinds of warmth- I don’t mention any of them by name, but it’s like. What I associate with them.” Dex probably makes a face of attempted comprehension, and Nursey smiles and explains further, “Like, Bitty’s obviously supportive warmth, like homemade cooking, Chowder’s like the sun when spring comes back, Shitty and Lardo are like, curling up in a patch of sunlight, y’know?”

Dex exhales. “Wow, yeah… I get it.” He wouldn’t’ve been able to put it into words like Nursey does, but when it’s laid out before him it all rings true.

Nursey smiles sheepishly. “It’s hella pretentious, I know, but-“

“No, I-” Dex interrupts. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Nursey grins at him, obviously pleased. “So there’re meant to be seven, and I’ve got five, so I was gonna finish with one for my moms, and one for my dad.”

Dex frowns. “Your dad?” From what Nursey’s told him, he assumed they weren't exactly _close_.

“Yeah, um.” Nursey shifts uncomfortably. “Drawing on, like, when I was little, before my parents split, I have some really, really good memories? And visiting him, seeing how much he cares about his new family, and wants me to be a part of their lives. And even though he never gets it exactly right, he never stops trying.” He clears his throat, not really looking at Dex. “Just, more eloquent than that.”

Dex suppresses the urge to do something stupid, like reach across and hug Nursey or tell him he doesn’t understand how someone has to _try_ to include Nursey in his life, when in that moment wanting Nursey in his life is all Dex remembers how to do. Instead he goes for humour, and his own insecurities, which are much more familiar than his feelings. “So what, I don’t get a sonnet? I’m hurt, Nurse.” He teases, and Nursey laughs, obviously grateful for the topic change. 

“Nah, don’t think so.” Nursey says, with a soft smile.  Dex isn’t surprised- it’s not like he’s been that warm to Nursey, or is interesting enough to merit his own poem.  Nursey looks him over, but Dex doesn’t feel like he’s being judged, just… appraised, like a painting in a gallery that Nursey doesn’t quite understand. Nursey hums softly. “You’re hard to put into words, Poindexter,” He says finally, fond but casual, like he’s stating a simple fact.

Dex looks at him, not blinking or speaking, and for the briefest second, allows himself to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dex: holy shit holy shi t i'm being So Obvious nursey definitely knows i'm into him time to move to siberia and never re-enter society  
> nursey: dex is being so chill lately. so happy we're bros now :)
> 
> the song ransom and nursey are dancing to is open to interpretation but it's probably danza kuduro by don omar? or actually more likely chantaje by shakira ft. maluma in a perfect world aka an alternate universe wherein this fic doesn't take place in 2014
> 
> also i'm very much aware that SMH has like. six am daily practice but i've decided to ignore that for plot reasons sorry bout that
> 
> and to round out my #nurseyfam headcanons, nursey's mom and dad had an amicable if not awkward divorce, nursey and his dad go ice skating in central park every year and he never liked hockey until nursey started playing, and then he checked out every book on hockey he could find to read on the plane (he's some sort of international business person) and the way nursey roots for whatever team's least racist? his dad roots for their rivals so they talk after every game either team plays.  
> he's half black, half white and remarried when nursey was young enough to resent his new wife, but old enough to look past that and be in the wedding party. because of this union nursey has step(half?) siblings, who i have not in any way mentally fleshed out but they're there. i've heard rumours ngozi gave nursey a sister, maybe that's her, idk
> 
> also just to clear up a couple things from the last chapter:  
> a) i tried to convey it in his drunken internal monologue but dex genuinely wasn't trying to make nursey cheat on his gf just to spite him or make him available or something shitty like that. by the time he went off to bitty's with nameless racist girl he had definitely forgotten all about Liana and was Literally just being immature and doing anything he thought would piss nursey off so yeah, poor disaster child deserves a break we all do stupid things when drunk and dealing with being really gay for our hot friends  
> b) the girl chowder pulled was not farmer, just a girl appropriately appreciative of how gorgeous he is, it happens
> 
> otherwise i live for your guys' comments, i'm so grateful to everyone who even just leaves tiny notes of appreciation and i feel really lucky that people are so invested in and happy with this little brain child of mine, i love all of you so friggin much
> 
> only one more chapter to go!!


	7. Chapter 7

When Nursey wakes up, Dex's head is on his stomach, his face turned to Nursey. The sky is overcast, so any light that comes through the window is muted and grey, and Dex's hair is even brighter in contrast, messy and splayed out against Nursey's shirt.

Nursey can't remember falling asleep, but he remembers Dex laying his head across Nursey's chest like it was no big deal, like they used each other as pillows all the time, and Nursey was so viscerally aware of the delicate balance of their relationship that he didn't even feel safe chirping him for it. Dex, as far as Nursey's aware, is two parts toxic masculinity and one part rage, and any steps he takes away from that are to be celebrated, not scrutinised. Nursey doesn't want to scare him away, after all. 

Nursey sits up, just slightly, not enough to move Dex. He's not really sure what to do, here. He doesn't want to wake Dex, who has issues sleeping in as it is, but he is really fucking hungry, and his stomach's going to wake him up sooner than later if Dex's head stays where it is.

Dex stirs, just slightly, sniffling a little, and Nursey freezes.

Dex's arm comes up near his face as he burrows into Nursey's stomach, his hand flat against Nursey's ribcage, but he doesn't wake up, and Nursey exhales in relief, then looks around.

All Nursey wants, in that moment, is to snap a picture of Dex, nuzzled into Nursey's stomach, looking like the polar opposite of the Dex he knows (cute, cuddly, calm) and send it to Chowder. His phone is  _just_ out of arm length, but if he twists, and leans  _just_ enough-

His fingers slide the iPhone over, and he grabs it off the floor, feeling triumphant. He unlocks the phone, opens snapchat, and turns the camera around, and watches as it focuses on Dex's face, eyes blinking open to look tiredly up at Nursey. 

"Oh,  _c'mon_." Nursey groans, as Dex sits up, hand braced against Nursey for leverage.

Dex yawns. "What's up?"

"Um." Nursey locks his phone. "Nothing, just-" His brain races to find a lie he won't have to substantiate. "Checking the stocks?"

Dex gives him an utterly unamused look. "I can't tell if you're joking or not, and I think it's best that I never know."

"Agreed."

Nodding slowly, Dex arches his back, yawning again. "Sorry I fell asleep on you, by the way."

"No worries, I'm a very comfy pillow, it happens." Nursey grins, hoping for an eyeroll in response. He gets it, but it's accompanied by a smile, soft and fond. Nursey's not exactly at his most annoying, but seeing Dex roll his eyes without looking like he'd like nothing more than to strangle Nursey in his sleep is still a novel concept. His thoughts drift to the night before, and how comfortable he felt around Dex. Nursey feels like he's somehow unlocked a new level of Dex, and now he gets to see the soft, happy side of him under the prickly exterior. Although, he supposes, he has been seeing this side of him for a while, and it's only beginning to sink in what a drastic change their dynamic has undergone.

"Do I have something on my face?" Dex asks after a minute, and Nursey realises he's been staring as Dex wipes at his chin, ears tinging a soft pink. 

"Chyeah, drool. Everywhere." Nursey teases, and Dex scowls at him. "Nah, man, just. Y'know. Trying to figure out how long we've been friends."

Dex raises an eyebrow. "Why." 

Nursey shrugs. "So I can get you an anniversary present, obvs." He grins.  "No, dunno, just hit me that we're like, _actual_ friends now, not just teammates who tolerate each other."

"Observant." Dex says with some finality. He braces his arm on one bent leg and cracks his back by twisting side to side slowly, and groans. 

Nursey stands up and stretches out lazily, stepping over Dex on his way to the bathroom, still thinking about how strange it feels to have Dex in his room by his own volition. Not because he needs somewhere to crash because he's not occupying his own body, but because he sought Nursey out and wanted to spend time with him. It hasn't even been a month since Dex wanted to be paired with different defensemen, after all.

He's begun brushing his teeth by the time Dex calls from the floor, "Last Friday."

"Hmrh?" Nursey's got a mouthful of toothbrush.

"We've been friends since last Friday."

Nursey spits into the sink, and looks around the bathroom door to where Dex is thumbing at his phone. "How d'you figure?"

Dex shrugs, pulling on his hoodie. "You sent me  _fifteen_ emotional texts about a blind stingray and I didn't change my number."

" _That's_ our friendship barometer."

"Yup." Dex pops the 'p', and hums distractedly. 

Nursey splashes some water on his face, and reenters the room while drying it with a hand towel. "Well, at least I'm bringing the joy of discovery into your life."

Dex snorts back a laugh and doesn't respond, leaving Nursey to think, hands braced on his hips.

"I," Nursey says finally, "Am in the mood for brunch. Thoughts?"

He looks down at Dex, propped against the side of his bed, and watches him shake his head slowly. "They basically boil down to 'god, Nursey's a fucking hipster' and 'I hope it's not contagious'." He smirks, typing out a text Nursey is too far away to read. "Can I take a piss before you head out?"

Nursey frowns. "Dex." He looks up from his phone obligingly. "That could not more clearly have been me, asking  _you_ , if you wanted to come to brunch with me."

Dex raises an eyebrow as his cheeks flush. "Um, probably would've been a lot clearer if you said 'hey Dex, wanna get food?'"

"I asked you for your thoughts! What, did you think I was just asking for your general opinion on the  _concept of brunch?_ "

"Yeah, pretty much." Dex rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet, while the pink on his cheeks deepens. "I thought words were supposed to be your thing."

Nursey huffs. "Not my fault you're functionally useless and need a fucking embossed invitation to realise you're being asked to brunch." Nursey straightens as he has an idea that's sure to piss Dex off, which means, obviously, that it's sheer brilliance. He walks over to Dex and slowly sinks to one knee, grabbing one of Dex's hands as he goes. "Will you, William Jacob Poindexter-"

"Oh for christ's sake."

"-go with me, Derek Malik Nurse, to Jerry's for brunch. My treat."

Dex glares down at him. "I honestly hate everything that you choose to be."

"That's not an answer." Nursey says with a grin.

"Get off the floor you fucking loser." Dex's hand wriggles out of Nursey's grip to twist around his wrist and hoist him up. "I don't need you to treat me."

"No, obviously, but you bought snacks for the movie last night. It's my turn." Nursey, predictably, loses his balance for a moment, but finds his feet. "Is that a yes?"

Dex huffs, and walks around Nursey to the bathroom. "Only because I'm fucking starving."

"He said  _yes!_ " Nursey exclaims, as Dex slams the bathroom door behind him. As it shuts, it reveals just a glint of Dex, blatantly suppressing a smile.

 

\---

Nursey vocally plans their hypothetical wedding the entire way to Jerry's, and they, predictably, fight over Chowder as best man again, even with Dex insisting every few minutes that they're not going to get married and Nursey is the most ridiculous and annoying person he's ever met.

"I've never dressed for red hair and amber eyes, obvs, but you'd probably look straight-up appetising in a charcoal suit." Nursey says as he opens the door for Dex and the smell of Jerry's washes over him. Speaking of appetising. "Lavender would probably work with both of our eye colours, but I'd have to check with my moms' colour consultant."

Dex stops halfway through the doorway, eyes meeting Nursey's incredulously. "There wasn't a single part of what you just said that I didn't find  _deeply_ unsettling."

"Look, man, it's our big day, and if making it perfect means shelling out the big bucks so Louise puts you in a tie that makes your eyes shine like the forges of Erebor, I'm gonna fucking do it." Nursey says, schooling his face as he bites back a laugh at how Dex's face can't seem to decide if he's exasperated or worried for Nursey's mental state.

"I-" Dex gapes, then finally steps past him and into Jerry's. "I hate talking to you." 

 

\--- 

Five minutes later Nursey's ordered for them, stopping for a second to chat with a girl from class who works behind the counter, and Dex has found a nice booth by a window, and the two of them sit, checking their phones. It's not the most social- if there are any people over the age of thirty in the immediate vicinity, they're sure to get some dirty looks- but seeing as they've spent the better part of the last eighteen or so hours together, Nursey thinks he's justified in taking a few minutes to read the emails from his mom.

It does mean, however, he's doesn't see their waiter coming over, balanced a tray piled with food, until it's too late.

"Dex?" 

Dex looks up from his phone and at the waiter, and Nursey follows suit, immediately seeing very familiar dark hair and blue eyes.  _Shit_. 

The guy Nursey recognises as Jordan begins to set their plates down with a closed-off expression. "Yeah, thought that was you."

"Oh, hey." Dex says, with the very obvious facial expression of someone who vaguely recognises someone else but doesn't remember from where and doesn't want to be rude. "How're you, man?"

Jordan raises an eyebrow. "What, you care now?" He says, voice calm but spiteful. Dex flinches, obviously not used to people that aren't him being irrationally angry.

Though, as Nursey recognises Jordan as the guy he danced with in Dex's body, drunkenly exchanged numbers with, and soberly tried to let down easily before realising the guy was kinda clingy and couldn't take a hint, before finally ghosting him, he can vouch- Jordan's anger isn't  _entirely_ irrational. A bit unnecessary, but.

"Hey, I recognise you." Nursey interjects, hoping he can get Dex out of this unscathed. "From the kegster last Friday, right?" Jordan looks away from where he's staring expectantly at Dex. "You a friend of Dex's?"

Jordan snorts derisively. "You could say that."

Dex still looks lost, and opens his mouth as if he's gonna start talking. Which is a  _terrible_ plan, because Nursey can very plainly tell he still has little to no idea who Jordan is, and voicing that would possibly be just enough to get the guy to cause a scene. Nursey reaches across the table to grab Dex's hand where it's wrapped around his phone, trying to simultaneously convey 'I am out for brunch with my boyfriend' and 'fucking hell Dex just  _play along_ '. From the look of it, it mostly just terrifies and bewilders the already confused Poindexter.

"Any friend of his is a friend of mine." Nursey smiles as Dex gapes at him. "I'm Derek, by the way." He says, turning back to Jordan, whose eyes track the movement of Nursey's fingers against the back of Dex's hand.

"Jordan." He says, not sparing a glance to Nursey, but his eyes narrow.

"Wait,  _this_ is Jordan?" Nursey tries for angry incredulity, letting go of Dex's hand so he can gesture exaggeratedly, and both Jordan and Dex look at him in confusion. "Jordan, who you were texting all the time? What, you bring me out just so you can leer at your side piece, is that it?"

"I-" Dex says, staring at him. "No?"

"'It's nothing, Derek'." Nursey mocks. "That's what you said after I made you delete his number, wasn't it? We go on a break for a  _week_ and you start  _lining up_ \- god, I can't believe you." He turns to regard Jordan, who's looking between the two of them like he deeply regrets getting in the middle of things. Nursey channels his inner upper-class manhattanite, and inhales. " _Jordan_ ," He says the name like a dirty word. "Do you not have a  _job_ to do, or do they pay the staff to gawk at the customers here?"

Jordan makes an interesting face as he doesn't really try to his disdain and turns to walk around, gaze lingering on Dex with something that looks a bit like pity and a bit like fondness, just for a moment, and soon he's returned to the main counter.

Nursey exhales, sinking into the booth. He reaches out and pulls his plate, waffles and bacon with a side of fruit and cream, in front of him. "Man, this smells like  _heaven_."

He looks up at Dex, smirking a little, as he gawks back at Nursey. "What- what just- why is nothing ever  _normal_ with you-" Dex reaches for his plate with uncertain hands, takes a bite of his hashbrowns, swallows, and breathes deep. He points his fork at Nursey. "Explain."

Nursey shrugs. "That's Jordan, you may recognise him from the time I almost outed you from within."

Across the table, Dex pales with realisation. " _Oh_."

"Chyeah." Nursey spears a strawberry slice and a corner of waffle onto his fork. "I gave him my number as like, a courtesy or whatever, also because I was  _schwasted_ , and dude got  _mad_ attached. Like, thirteen texts throughout the day without a single response from my end. Had to ghost him."

"...right." Dex says slowly.

Nursey shrugs. "I knew he'd be pissed about the ghosting, but, like, no need for you to be on the receiving end? So I figure, if he thinks you've got a hella possessive boyf, from whom you were on a break, then you get a free pass on both the hitting on him _and_ the ghosting." He shovels the food into his mouth and groans around his fork. Jerry's food is  _orgasmic_. "I'll leave a massive tip, it's chill."

The colour floods back into Dex's face as he nods, chewing thoughtfully, eyes on Nursey. After a few seconds, he clears his throat. "So, you're outing me over brunch now?"

Shit.  _Shit_. "Shit, Dex I didn't-" Nursey stammers. "Oh my god, I didn't think  _again_ , I just thought it'd be easi..." He trails off, as Dex grins, and it becomes immediately obvious that Nursey's being fucked with. "Oh, you _asshole_."

"Consider that payment for- like, everything that's happened to me since I woke up this morning." Dex says smugly, then rubs at the corner of his eye. "Though maybe the next time you want a fake boyfriend give me like, a minute's warning? Jordan might not think I'm a dick but I'm sure 'brain damage victim' isn't off the fucking table."

"Sorry, bro." Nursey takes a sip of his coffee. "Dude totally snuck up on me."

They fall silent for couple minutes, save the sounds of chewing- they're both student athletes who haven't eaten breakfast, which means food is the highest priority- before Dex looks at Nursey again. "I should probably apologise."

"To Jordan?"

"To you." Dex answers, and Nursey stares at him, unsure what he could possibly feel deserves an apology. "All this time, I've been calling you an asshole rich kid- I had no idea what asshole rich kid Nursey _actually_ looked like. _That_ -" He gestures vaguely with his fork in the direction of where Jordan had been standing. "The way your voice sounded just then? It was like I was having brunch with a black, hockey playing Draco Malfoy."

It's so much what Nursey isn't expecting to hear that he nearly snorts some waffle up his nose, so startled by his own laughter. "I- thank you?"

Dex shakes his head slowly for emphasis. "It was the richest thing I've ever seen. I could hear cash machine noises in the background- you didn't even sound like  _you_." He picks up a sausage, obviously enjoying himself. "Were you, like, possessed by the spirit of Blair Waldorf?"

Nursey's jaw drops. "You  _do_ watch Gossip Girl!"

"Fuck you, I do not." Dex says, still grinning. "I watched an episode or two after you mentioned it, thought it might give me an idea of what your rich-ass life is like. Definitely met my expectations."

Nursey grins and dips a grape into the cream. "Hey, c'mon, my life was  _much_ less dramatic. And the boys not nearly as hot."

"Just you, then?" Dex says around a mouthful of eggs and an eyeroll. Nursey's brow furrows a little on impulse- he's not really sure what to do with Dex's recent tendency to toss around compliments like he's begrudgingly hitting on him. It's probably Dex's interpretation of being a supportive friend, or maybe a side effect of his newly adopted crusade against racial micro-aggressions. Whatever it is, it always throws Nursey for a loop. In front of him, Dex begins to tense noticeably. Maybe he's catching on to how easily his words could be misinterpreted- Nursey tries to steamroll the conversation.

"What about you? What shitty teen drama encapsulates your high school experience?" 

"I think you're really overestimating my knowledge of shitty teen dramas, here." Dex says distractedly. 

Which is fair, but Dex is rapidly making his way towards murder eyes, and is gripping his fork just a bit too tight. 

Nursey frowns. "...didn't watch a lot of Degrassi, then?"

"Uh-huh, right." Dex says, murder eyes out in full force, to the point where Nursey is ready to duck when Dex inevitably throws his plate at him or something, but before Nursey can even ask why Dex looks like he's about to literally burst into flames, Dex whips around to face the booth behind him. "You know what's pathetic? Assholes who have nothing better to do than gossip like a bunch of fucking housewives."

Nursey, along with the three guys in the next booth, all stare at Dex. It's possible resolving the animosity between him and Dex was ill-conceived, because apparently without Nursey to yell at Dex just fucking goes off on strangers. To be fair, they're obviously fuckboys; three white guys all in snapbacks and ironic t-shirts, experimenting with avant-garde facial hair. But just because they're visually annoying doesn't mean they deserve a strange, angry hockey player yelling at them over brunch.

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them, the furthest from Dex and thus the least intimidated by his murder eyes, says, indignant.

Dex scoffs. "Who the fuck are _you_? All I'm seeing is some bitch-ass greasy pissants who need to keep Jack Zimmermann's name out of their mouths." And, well. Nursey isn't sure if he's more impressed that Dex is apparently defending Jack's honour or pleased that Dex evidently listens to Nursey when he talks about words he likes, because he remembered 'pissant'.

"Fuck you, ginge." The same guy says, and scratch that, Nursey is mostly afraid Dex is going to straight up murder all three of these random strangers and Nursey will be made an accessory or worse, banned from Jerry's.

Dex's shoulders only tense slightly, which is a good sign, at least. "You couldn't handle it." He lets that hang in the air for a second before continuing, "Besides, I don't really go for guys whose brain and dick are tied for the smallest organ in their body."

Right, yeah, that was incredible, Nursey's lowkey in love, and Dex is gonna get himself punched.

"The fuck is your  _problem_ , dude?!" The guy next to Dex grunts, as the one who's been speaking drops his fork to the table.

Definitely,  _definitely_ gonna get punched. Nursey is up and out of his chair before anyone else can move, grabbing his plate as he goes to stand next to the division between the booths, a bare few inches of foam not nearly enough to impede Dex getting charged with a misdemeanour. He shoves his plate at Dex's shoulder, until he whips around to look at Nursey, still obviously ready for a fight, but at least this way it'll be with someone who won't press charges.

"We're leaving, get us some to go boxes." Nursey pushes at Dex's chest with his plate. Dex stares back at him, murder eyes fading a little. " _Now_ , Poindexter."

Dex stares back at him for a second. Then, shockingly, he complies, grabbing his plate from the table and Nursey's from his hand, hands too full to even flip the guys off as he storms towards the counter. Nursey shakes himself out of his shock- Dex  _listened_ to him- and leans down across the booth to grab their coats.

"Dude, your boyfriend has  _issues_." One of the guy says, low and almost apologetic.

Nursey straightens, eyes narrowing. "Whoa, no, I'm not on your side here." He gestures to where he estimates Dex is. "If you're saying shit about our captain, he'd be totally justified in knocking your teeth in, but I enjoy eating here too much to get a lifetime ban." He looks over their essentially indistinguishable faces disdainfully. "And for the record, Jack Zimmerman is a history nerd who spends his weekends learning how to bake and is gonna make more money than you'll probably ever  _see_ playing pro hockey. He's a good guy, and any rumours you've heard are unfounded bullshit."

He doesn't wait for a response, just turns in time to see Dex stomp outside, two polystyrene containers in hand. Nursey rolls his eyes, shrugs on his coat, and prepares for a fight. He waves to Nina behind the counter as he pushes open the door and steels himself against the cold air of the outside world. The air outside is brisk but not windy, which is something, at least. Still not warm, though. He follows the hoodied and fuming Poindexter, scurrying a little to catch up.

"Yo Dex, forget something?"

Dex swivels around, and Nursey is in no way prepared for a Dex looking  _apologetic_. Angry, sure. But not- "I'm sorry, okay? Sorry I ruined your fucking brunch."

Nursey stops in his tracks, shocked still and holding out Dex's brown flight jacket. "Y- It's chill?"

"Oh c'mon." Dex rolls his eyes. "I know I was acting like a dick, I just- I wasn't gonna, like, hit them, or, well maybe a little but we weren't even done eating and I was overreacting, I _know_ , okay-"

"Dude." Nursey grins. "You're adorable, you think I'm mad about this?" Dex's cheeks begin to redden, and Nursey takes one of the containers from his hands so he can pass over Dex's coat- boy needs to bundle up. "Zimmermann's my captain too, alright? Best one I've ever had, and I'm shit at fighting but I'd back you up if it came to it, no hesitation. Those idiots just weren't worth losing Jerry's over. Gotta think big picture, bro."

Dex huffs, pulling his coat on one-handedly. "They were calling him a fucking coke addict." He grumbles.

"Yeah, well, they're pricks. If you wanna fight every idiot who believes some dumb shit you'll have to take on half of America- not that I don't think you could." Nursey hurries to add with mock reassurance.

"Oh good, almost wounded my fragile ego, there." Dex gives a half-hearted eyeroll before frowning at the takeaway box in his hands. "Our food's gonna be cold and gross by the time we get back to the dorms." He says dejectedly, because apparently brunch is a lot more important to Dex's emotional wellbeing than Nursey originally thought.

"Dude, chill, we'll-" Nursey starts, before he's interrupted by a honking car and the reminder that he and Dex are standing in the literal middle of the street. "C'mon." He grabs Dex's hand and waves apologetically at the car. As he pulls Dex out of the street he says, "There's a park just around the corner, we can sit there. It'll be a lukewarm brunch picnic in the freezing cold, we'll Instagram it and start an edgy trend."

Dex's hand is cold in his because all of Dex's blood apparently just flows betweens his cheeks and his ears, and he sort of ineffectually grumbles as Nursey pulls him along, blatantly ignoring whatever reluctant noises Dex is making. The 'park' Nursey remembers is a street-corner's worth of dead grass with a bench and table in the middle, which is exactly what the situation calls for. Nursey lets go of Dex and slides down onto one side of the bench, pausing for a second to check for bird shit. He checks to make sure he has the right takeaway box, then opens and tucks into his rapidly cooling waffles. Across the bench, Dex sits down awkwardly across from him, and slowly opens his box. He picks up the little plastic fork inside and stares at the remnants of his brunch. Nursey is a little preoccupied with eating the rest of his waffles before they succumb to the November cold, but even then he can't miss that Dex is very pensively, slowly, and _silently_  eating his food.

"When did you realise you liked, um, any gender? All genders?" Is what Dex finally says, because it's apparently the one sanctioned day a year in which Dex is wholly unpredictable. "I don't- is it all genders?"

Nursey tries not to gape at him with a mouthful of waffle, and is moderately successful. "Um, no, yeah. All genders works." He swallows, very aware that this is one of those moments in which he should tread carefully. "Um, I just- well, my mom is a _very_ proud bisexual, has been since before she met my dad in the nineties, and you know how, like, sitcom parents always ask the son if there are any cute girls at school? In my house it was always 'any cute girls or boys', and I just- never stuck to one. My first valentine was a boy named Kris when I was six- my mom still has the flower he gave me pressed in a scrapbook somewhere, she's such a  _mom_ \- and I went to one of those progressive, open-minded elementary schools where you don't have grades, just stickers and there's a ton of singing? So it was never a big deal. Even in Andover it was pretty chill, I mean. I was three years behind Shitty, and  _he_ had some senior equality mentor when he was a freshman, so by that point most of the school had been at least partially steamrolled into tolerance by white dudes who refused to shut up. Basically, if you could play some kinda sport and your parents had money no one cared if the townies you snuck around with had genitals that matched yours."

Dex grins through a mouthful of food. " _Townies_? That's so boarding school I might puke." 

Nursey relaxes. It's not that- well, he's not sure what reaction he expected from Dex, honestly, but he knows he's had it a lot easier than most people do, sexuality-wise, and Dex is probably one of those people, and Dex has never exactly reacted well to Nursey having things easier than him, but it's nice to know they can talk about these things now.

"Chyeah, well, as long as you aim away from me." Nursey smiles faintly, trying to keep the tone upbeat, before looking down at his food. "Um, what about you?" He immediately looks back up, trying to gauge Dex's reaction. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"It's cool." Dex shrugs. "I brought it up, you asked me a relevant question. Kind of how conversations work." He says with a shit-eating grin. 

"Smart-ass." Nursey grumbles, through a smile.

Dex hums thoughtfully. "I, uh, I was twelve, I think? Before then I didn't even realise- I mean, I never knew anyone who was less than straight, or- openly, I guess, but." He clears his throat. "My brother's best friend, Robbie?"

"Oh shit." Nursey interrupts without thinking, but Dex just nods sagely.

"Oh shit is right." He inhales slowly. "They were on the same baseball team, and Robbie used to come over  _all_ the time. He would play catch with me sometimes, if I sat around looking pathetic, and I was  _obsessed_ with him. I genuinely could not shut up about him if you paid me. I used to- I used to pretend I was trying to piss my brother off, by talking about how much better than him Robbie was, but really I'd just use any excuse. And eventually, I realised I had never wanted any girl to notice me the way I wanted Robbie to. Then I- well." Dex clears his throat as the colours in his face shift towards a deep pink. "Baseball pants."

Nursey snorts out a laugh, nodding. "Say no more."

"Yeah, well. Anyway," Dex makes one of his vague hand gestures. "He graduated the next year, and I just- I never wanted to deal with it. I  _still_ don't want to deal with it, even if-" He trails off, face going a couple shades darker. "I mean, I had to- and still have to- keep my grades up, keep my hockey playing consistently above average, and with my town, and my  _parents,_ being gay just- didn't fit. I didn't have time for it, and it'd just fuck me over in the long run." Some of the effect Dex's words have on Nursey must show in his face, because Dex says resolutely, "I'm not ashamed, or trying to repress, or whatever, I mean, fuck, I chose to enrol at _Samwell_ , for christ's sake. I'm just... compartmentalising. And it works for me, because honestly? I'm kind of picky when it comes to guys anyway."

Nursey chuckles. "Not the type to settle, I respect that."

Dex rolls his eyes. "I mean I've like- hooked up with a couple guys, but never anything serious. Not that you need to know- anyway." Dex nods, seemingly to himself. "I think, you know, being in college- I'd be open to something actually, y'know- serious." He looks directly at Nursey, then, like he's waiting for something- approval, maybe?

Nursey is happy to give it to him. "That's awesome, man. Hey, I'll give you Jordan's number if you want." He chirps with a wide grin, which is apparently not the answer Dex was looking for, given the way his eyes narrow after a moment.

"You're such a dick." He scoffs, looking back at his cooling brunch remnants.

Nursey rolls his eyes. "Yeah, like that's a revelation." 

Dex chuckles, then starts stabbing away with his plastic fork. "Anyway, sorry, you're not my fucking therapist, you don't need to hear all this shit-"

"Hey, it's chill." Nursey says. "You gotta talk about it with someone, man. It's good for you. And I like hearing all this stuff from you. It's almost like we're friends or something." He teases, and gets a bit of hashbrown thrown at him for his trouble.

"We are friends, dickhead." Dex smiles up at him, and honestly? Nursey's scrambling to catch up with all the new bits of Dex he’s gaining access to- his different smiles and laughs and all these little details Nursey never knew anything about. They haven’t known each other that long, sure, but it’s still staggering that Nursey doesn’t have enough data with which to compare and categorise something as standard as a _smile_ \- he has precious little context for that expression if it isn’t accompanied by a roll of the eyes. It's a good smile though, soft and open. Nursey wouldn't mind seeing it a bit more often.

"'swasome." Nursey says after a moment. "All it took was a couple of weird fucking weeks." 

Dex groans. "If it's all the same to you, I'd really prefer to pretend all of that never actually happened. A shared hallucination, or something"

"Nah, man, there's some shit we can't take back." Nursey points at him with a bit of cold bacon. "You experienced racism, I sat through an inhumane amount of programming classes, we played like shit, we've touched each other's dicks in the weirdest way possible," Dex chokes a little on his food. "And it all brought us closer together." He finishes with a serene smile.

"Christ on a cross." Dex says, through a cough. "You gonna start singing Kumbaya or something?"

 "If you ask nicely."

 

\--- 

Nursey doesn't see much of Dex outside of practice on Thursday, but he does get text- and snapchat- updates throughout the day. Dex is getting the hang of filters, and it's a wonderful thing to see.

With Friday comes a home game, and Nursey is more than ready to get back on the ice.

They're playing Michigan, and they're pretty well matched. The score's tied up going into the second period, when they send Dex and Nursey out. Nursey nearly gets an assist right off the bat, and it gets his adrenaline rushing. He and Dex are playing well, feeding off each other and wordlessly understanding when the other needs them to be somewhere. There's a power play for Samwell, then a small skirmish near the Michigan goal, but nothing all that notable happens until fourteen minutes in, when Michigan gets control of the puck and rushes the goal.

It's a clean breakaway that Chowder blocks easily, but it piles up quickly. Nursey tries to swipe the puck away from Michigan's eight, who swipes it sideways and someone else tries to shoot, hitting Chowder's pads as he butterflies, and then something... goes wrong. The whistle blows and Nursey can't see because eight's in his face, holding on to his arms like he's making sure Nursey doesn't start swinging which is  _never_ a good sign. Nursey cranes to look around him, and sees Chowder, spread out on the ice with one of Michigan's players on top of him. His helmet is off, his head bare on the ice, and Nursey's blood runs cold.

He's pretty sure he pushes #8 flat onto the ice in the scramble to get to Chowder, but he barely notices. Nursey crouches down on the ice when he reaches him, heart pounding in his chest, and shoves at Michigan to expedite his getting the fuck off their goalie. He looks back at Chowder, who's wincing.

"C? C'mon, Chris- hey, talk to me-"

"Well, I would, if you'd shut up for a second." Chowder says, as his eyes blink open, one gloved hand coming up to his head. "I'm fine, Nursey- helmet didn't come off until I had already hit the ice, barely felt it- do me a favour and make sure Dex doesn't murder someone?"

Nursey lets out a massive breath of relief as Chowder begins to sit up. "Hey, woah, no, lemme-"

"Nursey." Chow says sternly, then nods for him to turn around.

Near the goal line, along the boards, while one ref is kneeling on the other side of Chowder, the other is proving not quite enough to keep Dex from slowly skating after the Michigan defenceman who 'fell' on Chowder- shouting something Nursey can't quite make out, but his intention is clear. 

"Fuck." Nursey looks back to Chowder, who rolls his eyes. He's sitting up fully now, the ref telling him to stay where he is until they can get a physician on the ice.

"Please keep him out of prison." Chowder monotones in a voice that sounds eerily like a disappointed, but not surprised, parent.

Chowder waves him away, and Nursey stands, rushing across the rink in a matter of seconds to put himself directly between Dex and Michigan, which the ref should be doing but fuck knows they don't pay the refs enough to get between a 6'2 raging college athlete and his prey. Competitor. Whatever.

"Dex, c'mon." Nursey is Dex's height, pretty much exactly, but you wouldn't know it from the way Dex is shouting over his head.

"An accident, huh? You wanna fucking try it with me, see how your 'accident' goes, c'mon, I fucking  _dare_ you-"

"Dex, holy shit, Chowder's fine-" Nursey tries to push at Dex's chest but hockey skates aren't exactly meant for playing the part of human barricade, and Dex just keeps moving like Nursey isn't even there, as Michigan, fucking idiot that he is, goads Dex on behind him.

"He was in the way, dude, calm your shit."

Dex picks up speed. "You wanna see calm? I'll show you calm- you'll be calmer than you've ever been in your goddamn life-"

"Dex, Chowder is perfectly fine, he's chirping and delegating tasks, please,  _chill_." Nursey longs for the times when the word 'chill' narrowed Dex's world and anger to one, precise, Nursey-shaped area. Dex doesn't even seem to register that Nursey's speaking.

"-fucking coma sound, huh? That  _calm_ enough for you, you piece of shit-"

" _God_ , you're hot when you're angry."

"-not so tough against someone your own- what." Dex blinks, gaze shifting to Nursey as if he's just realised he's there. 

"Chowder's barely gonna be bruised, and the coaches are calling us off the ice." Nursey flattens his stick against Dex's chest and pushes him back, towards the bench.

Dex lets himself be pushed, sliding back slowly and following Nursey as he skates off the ice. "What- did you- did you just-"

"Oh calm down, I had to get your attention somehow." Nursey says as he steps over the barrier. He's actually shocked it worked- his next options were, like, insisting crawfish was a regional word for lobster (he is at least seventy percent sure this is not true) and offering Dex large amounts of money, both in the hope Dex would be angry enough at Nursey to forget his other, less convenient, anger. Nursey flops down on the bench, reaching for his water bottle.

"You boys alright?" Bitty says from the other side of Nursey, his face pressed against the side of his stick, fingers tapping against it agitatedly. "They're looking after Chowder in the locker room. Goodness, it looked bad, didn't it?"

Nursey groans as Dex's fists clench at his sides- he hasn't even sat down yet, c'mon Bits. "Looked liked it, chyeah- good thing it _wasn't_ , right?"

"Lord, yes." Bitty says breathlessly, before Hall comes over and sends both him and Jack onto the ice, along with Ransom and Holster. It sends a rush of pride through Nursey- without Chowder on the ice, the coaches have to put out the best of their best. Even if their best isn't Nursey and Dex right now, it _is_ their best friend.

Dex sits slowly next to Nursey. "He's gonna be okay?"

"If anything, he's pissed at being taken out- he looked absolutely fine." Nursey answers, watching as Jack goes for a backhand and the goalie just manages to block it. He sucks on his teeth, disappointed. "Sent me to make sure you didn't get thrown out of the game."

Sure, he didn't ask Nursey to hit on Dex, but what was Nursey supposed to do? Dex wasn't paying attention to him, he had to do  _something_ to snap him out of it. It's not like Nursey _actually_ thinks Dex is hot when he's raging at something- he looks much better with that little smile he gets when he's chirping someone, or, rare as it may be, when Nursey gets a genuine smile out of him. But whatever, Nursey was asked to do a job and he did it, no need to overanalyse  _how_ he did it.

After another minute or so of watching the game, Nursey looks at Dex, who's still strung as tight as a human can be. "You alright, man?"

Dex flinches at his voice, then looks over to him. "That's the second time you've gotten between me and a stupid fight this week. This  _week_."

"Um, sorry?"

"No it's-" Dex huffs, and looks out onto the ice. "Must be exhausting, being friends with me."

Whoa, where did that come from? "Lighten up, Poindexter." Nursey nudges him with his shoulder. "You're trying to start fights I'd start if I knew how to throw a punch. The only reason I got in the middle was Chowder and I kind of like playing with you, so it'd be a real shame if you got twenty to life for beating someone to death."

Dex is quiet and unreadable next to him, his helmet keeping Nursey from seeing his expression. "I'm not that violent." He blurts out, eventually.

"No, hey- I know, I was kidding." Nursey says earnestly. "I'm serious, though, man- if I knew literally anything about fighting, actually, scratch that, if he'd done any _real_ damage, I'd be right there with you. No one fucks with Chowder, right?" He holds out his fist for a bump.

Dex accepts it with a heavy exhale. "Right."

 

\---

They lose the game.

It's not a crushing disappointment, really, they play  _well,_ it's just that Michigan plays better. They send Chowder back out for the third period, and they only lose by one point (a screened shot that Chowder is trying not to beat himself up about) and even Jack doesn't seem to disappointed when they all shuffle into the locker room, praising what went right and how they can improve on what didn't. Everyone quadruple-checks that Chowder's okay in the locker room afterwards, to the point where he starts to look a little crazed, and Dex and Nursey exchange a look. Having silently decided, Nursey accuses Dex of stepping on the 'S', Dex calls Nursey a delusional idiot, Nursey calls Dex a disrespectful cur, Dex makes that face he makes when he's regretting having met Nursey, and the resulting exaggerated argument is enough to distract the rest of the team so Chowder can shower in peace. It is nice when he and Dex are on the same page.

After showering, Nursey finally gets around to checking his phone and finds his notifications flooded with snapchats from Adrián, which he opens in shock instead of finishing pulling his shirt over his head, letting it fall half around his neck. 

He’s sent a stream of them, starting with an exterior of Faber and a selfie of Adrián and someone with lilac hair, both holding Samwell flags, with the caption ‘art students completing their school spirit requirements’, which Nursey chuckles at. There’s a snap of Nell, who’s in Lardo’s year (‘apparently she knows your manager?’), then the crowd, and one taken sometime during the first period reading ‘this is more exciting than I thought it’d be’, and one from the second of Nursey in position for a puck drop, under which he’s written, ‘hey, 28’s cute, can you get his number for me?’ which Nursey tries not to hyperventilate about. There's a video of the pink haired person on their feet, yelling in fast, angry spanish (‘I think emi likes your goalie’), which must have been taken after the Chowder debacle, and a couple more excited, then disappointed snaps of the end of the game. It’s been eight minutes since the last snap was sent, a view of the outside of Faber, with Adrián pouting and Emi and Nell’s heads in the background, that says ‘nell has just informed us people don’t stage door athletic events. emi may actually cry’. 

He texts Adrián as soon as he’s finished looking through the snaps, to the sound of Dex coming up beside him. Nursey can’t believe he was actually at the game. _Adrián_ came to a hockey game for _Nursey_. It’s like a lifetime of pretending to be chill has all prepared him for this moment.

**_[to: adrián]_ ** _hey, u still @faber?_

“Nurse, you look so unhinged right now I don’t even know where to start chirping.”

Dex’s voice pulls Nursey’s head away from his phone, while his mind is still focused on it, which probably results in glazed over eyes and a stilled smile looking vaguely in Dex’s direction, not really helping distance him from the ‘unhinged’ label. 

Dex raises an eyebrow as Nursey’s focus shifts to him. “Though maybe I’m just not up to date on the latest hipster trends, is standing around in your underwear with a shirt on the left half of your body ‘in’ now?”

Oh, right. “Haha, you’re hilarious.” Nursey deadpans, as he grabs a pair of sweats to finish getting dressed.

“And you’re really smiley, considering I haven’t been proven wrong in the last few minutes.”

Nursey is about to respond when his phone buzzes and he lunges for it, almost overbalancing as he goes.

**_[from: adrián]_ ** _unfortunately. been trying to decide on where to eat for a lifetime_

“Hey, I was thinking, are you doing anything tomorrow? I-”

Nursey pulls his shirt fully over his head, not really registering that Dex is talking to him. “Yo, I’ll be back in a minute okay? Cover for me if the coaches call a meeting.” 

Dex blinks at him, probably annoyed because Nursey interrupted him, and wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying in the first place. Oh well, bigger fish. “Uh- sure.”

Nurse takes the stairs out two at a time, and is at the entrance to Faber before he’s thought of what exactly he’s going to say when he gets there.

Luckily, Nell spots him, from where she, Adrián and Emi are standing with four or five people Nursey would probably recognise if Adrián weren’t his focal point. “Oh, hey, Derek!” She calls. “Adrián was just gushing about you.”

Adrián turns around, halfway through an eye roll and grimaces, waving a little as he walks over to Nursey. “She’s exaggerating. Though you looked really good out there.” His hair is pulled back, which highlights his cheekbones _so_ nicely, even if Nursey can’t help but think how much Dex would chirp him if he found out Nursey was into someone with a man bun. 

Nursey chuckles. “I guess we played alright.”

“Oh yeah, that too.” Adrián winks, flirtatious but not sleazy. Nursey is honestly shocked his heart hasn’t given out. “I might have to start coming to more games, that was actually a lot of fun.”

“High praise, given the horror stories.” Nursey looks back to where the group is circled. “You guys decide on a place to eat, yet?”

“Nah.” Adrián adjusts his jacket- denim and embroidered, really frames his shoulders well. “Nell wants that Mexican place on Bristol, Emi wants Jerry’s, it’s this whole thing. When we do decide, though, you’re welcome to come with.”

He smiles, and Nursey’s heart trips over itself a little. “Shit, raincheck? We’ve got team stuff still, I shouldn’t even be out here, right now.” Adrián’s brow lifts a little at that, and Nursey explains. “Just wanted to say hi, since _someone_ was disappointed at the lack of stage door traditions in a place without a stage.”

Adrián laughs. “Okay, that was mostly because Emi fell hard and fast for your goalie - number fifty-five? When took off his helmet in the interval I swear he _swooned_. He's okay, right?"

"Chowder?" Nursey says. "Chyeah, he's fine. Oh, fun fact for Emi: he can do the splits on command."

Adrián lets out a low, impressed whistle. "I think, as a best friend, I’m contractually obligated to try and get a number off you.”

Nursey laughs. “I’ll def run it by Chowder, he’ll be flattered.” Nursey has never actually asked what Chowder’s gender preference is, or if he has one, but maybe he’ll be able to help him with the Winter Screw problem after all.

“Awesome. And hey,” Adrián pauses, thinking. “Does tomorrow work?”

“Tomorrow?”

“For a raincheck on dinner.” Adrián rocks forward on the balls of his feet, and it occurs to Nursey that he might be making _Adrián_ nervous, instead of the other way around. What a day it's been. Having to resort to new and extreme measures to piss Dex off when it used to be effortless, making Adrián nervous; the world as Nursey knows it has changed. “We could grab something?”

Nursey’s face breaks into a smile. “Definitely.”

Adrián looks uncertain. “Like, you and me, we, not- and them.” He sort of waves his hand up in the direction of the group in that noncommittal way Dex does sometimes, and it makes Nursey smile a little wider, endeared.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

\---

Nursey’s riding a high when he goes back into Faber, but even the glow of the guy he’s been lowkey obsessing about for weeks having asked _him_ out can’t survive the drudgery of postgame debriefs. Murray’s halfway through a spiel on Bitty and Jack’s on-ice chemistry when Nursey shuffles in- he’s been saved a spot on the benches in between Chowder and Dex, who give him very similar ‘you’re explaining later’ looks. They’re all exhausted, and Nursey sinks into the bench lazily as the coaches ramble on; after a good twenty minutes of talking about practice schedules, tactics, new plays, drills, away game info, and all the shit Jack and Lardo have to tell them, Nursey’s mind is numb. He’s not the only one; Chowder _looks_ like he’s listening intently, but his eyes have this glazed-over shine to them, so his mind is definitely somewhere else (or he has a concussion, but Bitty himself has confirmed that Chowder doesn't. Fifteen times), and Dex has laid his head on Nursey’s shoulder, and makes fake snoring noises every few minutes that have Nursey stifling laughs. By the time everyone’s done talking, the only thing on Nursey’s mind is whether he should follow the team back to the Haus or if he’ll be too exhausted to make the trip back to his dorm in a few hours, which means sleeping on Shitty’s floor.

Chowder’s called back to talk to the coaches, so Dex and Nursey wait for him on the steps to Faber, propped up on their equipment bags. Nursey is still in a t-shirt, not entirely sure where his hoodie is and fully aware that there’s a coat in his bag, but he sits, shivering, because he is genuinely too tired to make the effort to look for it.

Dex makes a face halfway through Nursey complaining about the combined force of Jack and Lardo’s scheduling prowess, and then unzips his hoodie silently, shrugging out of it and tossing it on Nursey’s thighs.

“Um.” Nursey says, raising an eyebrow.

Dex scowls. “It’s freezing, and you’re sitting outside in a t-shirt. How on _earth_ did you survive to adulthood.”

“The kindness of strangers?” Nursey frowns. “It’s cool, man, we’re leaving in a minute.”

Dex just shakes his head. “I’ve got long sleeves, and I’m used to the cold.”

Nursey rolls his eyes. “Oh shit you're right, for a second I thought I’d lived through New York winters all my goddamn life.” 

“Maine is the fourth coldest state in the U.S.”

“There’s... no reason for you to know that?” Nursey says slowly, then pauses. “What’s New York?”

“Warmer. Put on the damn hoodie.”

Nursey huffs, but slings it over his shoulders. He’s too worn-out to fight Dex on this one. “Is ‘I don’t want you to be cold’ really so hard to say?” He can’t deny the hoodie is nice- warm and soft and with the distinct smell of aftershave still clinging to it. It does, unfortunately, bring back memories of the Haus party and Nursey’s jacket around some strange girl, but, Nursey supposes, it’s a tribute to Dex’s character that he’s always the coat-sacrificing gentleman. “Your tendency to angrily care about me is a trip, man.”

Nursey expects Dex to splutter and determinedly assert that he could give a shit about Nursey, but instead Dex just flushes, a soft pink under the lights of Faber, and looks out into the dark streets. “Yeah, well.” He clears his throat, and doesn’t continue.

Nursey watches him for a moment, before another wave of exhaustion lulls over him and he sinks further into his bag. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open.

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking.” Dex says, as Nursey contemplates the pros and cons of just curling upright there on the steps and spending the night. “Bitty bakes for us, like, all the time, we should bake something for him to thank him.”

Nursey hums thoughtfully. “Is it his birthday, or something?”

“No,” Dex says, exasperated. “Just thought we could do it out of the kindness of our hearts or whatever.”

Nursey raises an eyebrow, looking to where Dex is leaning over, onto Nursey’s bag, but facing away from him. “You have a heart?”

Dex pauses, and Nursey can’t be sure, but he’s willing to bet he’s rolling his eyes. “Remind me to hit you for that when I have the energy to make it hurt.”

“Yeah, not gonna do that.” Nursey says. “Also, I don’t know how to bake."

“I do.” Dex says simply. “And I’ve been missing it. I’ll teach you, as long as you promise not to trip and drop flour everywhere.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.” Nursey yawns, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down to keep the warmth in better. “I think he’d kill us if we used Betsy, though, even if you do fix her on the daily.”

“I was thinking we could use your kitchen? Mine’s rank, but yours is only shared by like, five people.”

“Oh, so that’s it.” Nursey teases. “You’re just using me to get to my oven.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Dex says softly. “I could come over tomorrow? We could even watch one of those movies you keep yelling at me about beforehand, in exchange for use of the oven.”

“Sure, sounds…” The memory of Adrián pushes through Nursey’s exhausted brain, and he sits up. “Shit, holy shit Dex I forgot to _tell you_ -” Nursey swipes his arm out hitting Dex in the side softly, but repeatedly.

“Ow, calm the fuck _down-_ ” Dex sits up, grabbing Nursey’s wrist to stop him from hitting out. “Tell me what?”

“Adrian asked me out!” Nursey says excitedly. “We’re going for dinner tomorrow. He came to the game, def owe you one for that, and he was waiting outside earlier, and he asked me to dinner. Who has game, now?” He teases, and Dex, for a moment, has an expression on his face that Nursey doesn’t recognise, or particularly like. He looks really uncomfortable, with a mix of something else Nursey can’t quite place.

“Pretty sure still not you, if he did the asking.” Dex deadpans. “Well, nevermind. It was just an idea.”

Nursey frowns. “You can still come over, dude, just earlier in the day, like afternoonish?”

“Yeah, don’t think so.” Dex says, an edge to his voice. “I’ve got plans then.”

“What plans? It’s Saturday.” Nursey teases, but it doesn’t get a smile out of Dex.

Nursey can't quite decipher Dex's mood shift, until he remembers that Dex has met Adrián, has _flirted_  with him, and considers that maybe Dex is a little jealous. He did mention an interest in a serious relationship, and Adrian is a very attractive man, who showed interest in Dex, albeit when Dex was in someone else's body. It would be all too easy to get confused, Nursey reasons, and feels a pang of guilt, even if there's no way he could've known Dex was into Adrián. Yeah, that has to be it. He can't be jealous  _of_ Adrián. That would be- he's Dex, he's not- besides, Nursey is _not_ that asshole that assumes their friend who's just come out is automatically into them because they're the appropriate gender. Dex obviously isn't interested in Nursey- that wouldn't make sense, he has to be jealous _of_ Nursey. If he's jealous at all, that is; he probably just doesn't approve because he think's Adrián's a massive hipster- lord knows Dex doesn't like hipsters. 

Dex is opening his mouth, presumably to answer Nursey's question and save him from his internal spiralling, when they hear a loud, exaggerated groan from behind them. Turning, Nursey sees Chowder, slumping over, his bag slung over one sagging shoulder. "The next person to ask me if I feel dizzy," He announces, trudging towards them. "Is gonna have their fucking organs harvested."

Nursey raises an eyebrow. "What _exactly_ are you doing with contraband organs?"

Chowder thinks about it for a second, then gives a half-hearted shrug. "I could use some extra cash." He cocks an eyebrow, looking between Dex and Nursey. "Am I interrupting something?"

Dex makes a choked, incredulous noise while Nursey looks down and absently realises that Dex's hand is still wrapped around his wrist.

Nursey grins. "Hey, can I get my hand back, Poindexter?"

Dex looks back at him, then down, apparently unaware he's been holding Nursey captive and yanks his hand away. "I didn't- uh."

" _Wow_ , I'm exhausted." Chowder says, and joins them on the steps. "Can one of you carry my bag for me?" He smirks, dropping it on the step above them.

Nursey scoffs. "What, too good to carry your own shit now, C?"

"Yeah, thought you hit your head, not broke your arms." Dex chimes in, grinning, though his face is still a little flushed.

Chowder pulls that little half-frown of disappointment of his that has felled stronger men than anyone the Samwell Mens Hockey team has to offer. "No, it's fine guys, don't worry about it." He sighs dramatically. "Not like I'm your goalie, who may have suffered a traumatic head injury, or anything..." He trails off, looking out into the dim lights around Faber.

Nursey looks at Dex. Dex meets his eyes. A moment passes.

"I've got the bags." Dex says.

"I'll carry Chowder." Nursey agrees.

"What- don't you _dare_ -" Chowder protests.

Nursey stands, and cricks his neck. "You're injured, it's our duty as your- hey!" Chowder takes off down the stairs, and Nursey feels what's left of his energy surge up as he leaps over the banister and after him. "Get back here- Chowder! Let me carry you!"

"I don't need carrying!" Chowder shouts as he runs.

Chowder's fast, but Nursey is a sprinter. He catches up to him in a few strides and attempts to fling him over his shoulder mid-run. It doesn't work. "Let me-" He grunts, as they fall over, off the pavement, into the grass. Chowder nearly elbows him in the eye. "You're weak- _ow-_ you can't be expected to-  _not in the face_ -"

" _Get off-_ "

"Why won't you let us  _love you-"_

Chowder wriggles out of Nursey's grip and flops out on the grass a couple feet away from him, triumphant. He whoops in victory, and Nursey is at least four times more exhausted than he's ever been in his life, but he laughs, soft and breathless, right along with Chowder's exultant chuckles. His breathing evens out after a second, in time to hear Dex's slow footsteps.

"If you want, I'll pretend the game tired the two of you out, and that's why that was so pathetic." He says, as he drops their bags on the grass next to them. Nursey holds out a wordless thumbs-up; sounds good to him. Dex rolls his eyes, then looks away. "Hey, Chow..."

Chowder groans. "I  _don't_ need to be carried."

"Not what I was gonna ask."

"Good."

Dex smirks. "Just wanna make sure you're not dizzy, or anything."

Chowder bellows in indignation as he lunges at Dex and tackles him down to their level in one swift, deadly movement.

Nursey's laughter echoes in the empty street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [that one fish from spongebob voice] i can explain
> 
> OKAY so i realise it may have seemed...odd. when i literally vanished off the face of the earth instead of just posting this chapter like a normal human being BUT okay so in england we had a bit of an election on the 8th, which is when i was meant to post this, and because of the election i forgot all about fic posting and stayed up until four am, it was this whole thing. then the next day was a lot of packing and faff because... haha... my flatmates and i went on a nice trip down to london and various other places as an end of term celebration and guess who didn't bring her laptop? this moron. so by the time i realised i still hadn't posted the chapter, i had no way of accessing said chapter. because i'm functionally useless.  
> ANYWAY as my personal way of apologising for this idiocy i've flushed some things out, expanded, added a couple of scenes, and turned the last chapter into two chapters! so there's more content! _i'msosorry_  
>  and the chapter after this is gonna be posted on the 22nd, not because i like making people wait but because i have no beta and i want to make sure my writing is coherent and edited before i release it to the masses. also i have a tiny bit of a life, thus i'm doubtful i can do this in one day, so i've taken two.
> 
> moving on:
> 
> i like to call this the 'nursey is endeared by dex trying to fight literally everyone, dex has several consecutive aneurysms every time nursey accidentally flirts with him' chapter, featuring 'nursey stop thinking about dex while this nice boy is trying to ask you out' 
> 
> and i dunno bout you guys, but i exclusively envision dex as the human embodiment of that 'x character gets a papercut; y character burns down a forest in retaliation' meme. not that the boy is just constantly raging, but he does have a bit of a temper. also, like, i'd try to fight someone for jack and chowder and i'm 5'7, never been in a fight in my life, and they're not real. so. i can only imagine the loyalty actually knowing them would inspire
> 
> and yes, i did think to myself 'what's a good way of showing how people unnecessarily coddle chowder, while simultaneously emphasising how ride or die the frogs are and how much better chowder is than everyone on earth, with a hint of nursey accidentally hitting on dex like 'haha weird where did that come from' and a dash of we as fic writers should at least Try to remember this comic is about hockey' and then went 'ahhh yes. of course. mild head trauma.'
> 
> also, this particular chapter is from solely nursey's POV! gasp! from a technical standpoint, we have most of the fic switching between POVs, then a chapter in which the same events were told from both Dex and Nursey's perspectives, so now we have a chapter of just Nursey, and we'll finish with a chapter of just Dex, the dynamic of which just appeals to me as a writer??
> 
> but from a more practical standpoint, if i tried to accurately convey the events of this chapter and Dex's internal reactions to them, the chapter would be gibberish and no one would understand what's happening because Dex is quietly losing his shit for approximately 50% of this, is just internally, endlessly screaming because What The Genuine Actual Fuck Nursey for 40%, and the other 10% is him playing hockey, so, like, the narrative would suffer
> 
> also i just wanna say... i Watch hockey. i don't.... know that much about hockey. any inaccuracies are because i only recently got into this sport (equally the fault of check please, Goon, and thirst bloggers) and there's only so many youtube videos of old hockey games a person can watch in the name of fic research before one has an existential crisis
> 
> and in case Anyone cares about these side characters i've invented for plot reasons Adrián and Emiliano (Emi) are both second years who met in the art society first year (adrián does printmaking, emi watercolours) and bonded with that eye contact mexican people make when surrounded by white people. it's a subtle variation on ECoC (eye contact of colour) and every person from a mexican/chicano family learns it from their grandmother (or a sufficient substitute from the Older generation). adrián is first gen, emi is fourth, and after graduation they get a nice apartment together and argue over how to make empanadas. what do you mean this is blatant projecting onto irrelevant characters it's my fic i'll do as i like
> 
> edit: this chapter is like 10k and the notes might be longer i need to learn to shut up
> 
> anyway to finish up, Holy Shit. the amount of messages i received from people who were concerned about my wellbeing/craving a continuation is staggering. thanks so much, again, and endlessly until the end of time, for all your support, and comments, and kudos, and thanks for sticking with me despite my various failures as a human 
> 
> last chapter on the 22nd! for real this time.


	8. Chapter 8

Dex spends most of Saturday feeling sorry for himself. He’s not ashamed to admit it, it is what it is.

He goes for a run in the morning, and thinks about nothing but Nursey the entire time, and it leaves a weird, twisting feeling in his gut. Then he gets back to his dorm, showers, and curls up watching whatever trashy programs the History Channel has to offer (Pawn Stars in particular is a favourite) while eating peanut butter out of the jar. It’s not his finest moment, but he feels like he’s justified in taking a day off from being a rational human being. Because the thing is, Nursey may be becoming Dex’s best friend. And Dex is a little in love with him. And Nursey is going on a date with the guy he’s been into for who knows how long, who just happens to be a poetic looking, chiseled, gorgeous Philosophy major who volunteers at a youth shelter and has a cat named Dorian (Dex may have done some Facebook and Instagram stalking). Not to mention Adrián, in addition to being gorgeous, shares a culture and interests with Nursey, probably wouldn’t ever need him to explain who Neruda is, and could hold his own in an intellectual conversation, as opposed to Dex, who is barely attractive on a good day, a closeted white guy who’s been discrediting Nursey’s experiences with racism since day one, and who only really feels confident when he’s talking to Nursey about _hockey_. There’s no competition there.

So Dex thinks he has a right to mope about it for a bit. If he wants to be able to hang out with Nursey, he has to get this out of his system, so he’s not a dick about something Nursey can’t control. It’s not Nursey’s fault Dex is wrong for him, or that he’s massively out of Dex’s league. And as much as Dex would like to think otherwise, he does genuinely want to be friends with Nursey; they've got a good thing going, the way they balance each other out both on and off the ice. Chowder and Nursey are additions to his life he's not sure he remembers how to live without, and he's not going to ruin that by being bitter that Nursey doesn't want anything other than friendship from him. Dex is used to getting along with what he needs, without the extras he might want- he can deal.

His strategy of dealing is ignoring all the snaps and messages from Nursey (self preservation), as well as anything from anyone on the hockey team- since Holster, he's not sure who'll be able to take one look at him and realise he's pining pathetically, so it's probably best to just avoid them altogether. He doesn't think about Nursey and Adrian's inevitable apartment overlooking Central Park, walls lined with expensive paintings and funky bookshelves, the two of them having intellectual conversations about literature while making healthy, pinterest-worthy lunches for their appropriately genetically endowed children to take to their progressive elementary school while Dex is holed up designing software or working IT somewhere, drinking enough redbull a day to develop mild telekinesis and going home to an empty one-bedroom and some fish. He doesn't think about Adrián learning about hockey through Nursey, or Nursey arranging a date in Faber so he can teach Adrián to skate. Adrián, who can probably bake or cook or something, would probably bond with Bitty, would definitely get along with Lardo and Shitty, and would slowly win over the rest of the Haus until he and Nursey became SMH's it-couple. Adrián and Nursey, sitting in leaf piles together and drinking pretentious coffee and never fighting about stupid shit like the best weapon to have during a zombie apocalypse or which Star Wars film is the best of the series.

Okay, Dex spends a  _lot_ of time thinking about Nursey and Adrián. He's pathetic, it happens. The peanut butter understands. He calls his parents, just to have someone to talk to who's never even heard Nursey's name. And then talks about Nursey anyway, because they ask about hockey and Nursey makes him play better than anyone he's ever been paired with.  He listens to a borderline unhealthy and definitely embarrassing amount of country music, but it is the genre best suited to self-pity so he thinks he should get a pass, just this once. He's staring at some coding homework, some not entirely unpleasant voice crooning out his woes in the background, when he hears a knock at the door. Dex hauls his sorry ass out of bed, figuring it's Petey, having forgotten his keys _again_. "Yea, yea, I'm coming, I'm coming." He says, as the knocking continues, and wrenches the door open, ready to chew out his roommate for his singular flaw as a cohabitant. 

It's not Petey.

Standing in Dex's doorway, an uncertain smile on his face, is Chowder, clad in one of his (several) Sharks hoodies. 

"Oh."

'I'm craving waffles." Says Chowder, before literally anything else, as if that should be reason enough for his appearance in Dex's doorway.

Dex stares at him. "I don't have any?"

"Well, no, obviously, but I thought we could hit up the diner on Bristol, they do all-day breakfast."

Dex is no less confused, blinking rapidly. "You couldn't've texted? What time is it?"

Chowder rolls his eyes. "Sorry, didn't realise I needed a formal invitation to visit you, now." He frowns. "Also, dude, it's seven pm, are you really that out of it?"

"Do I seem out of it?"

"I mean..." Chowder tilts his head, assessing. "Is that peanut butter on your eyebrow?"

Dex groans, retreating into his room to wipe food of his face (lord, he's pathetic) and Chowder follows casually. "I'm not sure if I'm really feeling waffles, Chow."

"Aw, c'mon." Chowder pouts. "It'll be fun. Also, no judgment, but your room smells like you've been fermenting inside it."

"Gee, thanks."

Chowder shrugs. "Just saying. Have you not left all day? You alright? Where's Petey?"

"Library." Dex stands in front of the mirror, turned away from Chowder, and aggressively wipes at his face (he's also got a bit of Cheeto dust under his chin. What a catch he is). "He's got an essay due in tomorrow, he'll be back when it shuts at eight."

Chowder nods, hands in his pockets. "And there's nothing you wanna, like, talk about, maybe?"

"What's there to talk about?" From what he can see of Chowder's reflection, he's in a skeptical, prying sort of mood. So he has to come up with some kind of distraction, which means, "What the hell, sure, let's go for waffles."

Chowder, thankfully, doesn't comment on the rapid change of both subject and mind, but he does give Dex a very skeptical look before tossing him a jacket and herding him out the door. The walk there is nice, the weather warmer than Dex would expect for the time of year, and he's proud to say he only bitterly thinks of how convenient that will be for Nursey and Adrián's moonlight stroll and stargazing later in the evening for a few seconds, barely long enough to miss when Chowder changes the conversation topic from Jack's signing to an upcoming Shark's game. Otherwise, talking to Chowder more or less keeps his mind from straying back to Nursey. Maybe Dex did need to get out of the dorms.

When they get to the diner, Chowder leads him towards a booth instead of the counter, and Dex sits down hesitantly, confused. "Do we not have to, y'know, order?"

"I phoned in." Chowder says simply, shrugging off his hoodie (it should be noted that there is a Sharks shirsey lying in wait underneath).

"Huh, didn't know you could do that."

Chowder smiles. "You can if the staff like you."

Dex rolls his eyes. "That's cheating; everyone likes you." He considers for a moment. "Wait, you ordered for me, too?" Chowder shrugs, pulling out his phone to check for notifications before placing it facedown on the table. "You were  _that_ sure I'd give in."

"I knew you wouldn't leave me to be that pathetic guy eating waffles alone at eight at night." Chowder says with a grin, as a sort of scrawny-cute hipster kid comes up to their table, holding two plates, hearts gleaming in his eyes.

"Hey, Chris!" He says, smiling wide. "These are fresh, they might be hot- you were great at the game on Friday, by the way, even if it wasn't a win."

Chowder smiles at him, like a benevolent ruler. Dex suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. "They can't all be, I guess. Thanks Jake."

The kid beams back at him (Dex would bet good money that the _exact_ thought running through his head is 'he remembered my name!!'), and gives them both a little wave before fluttering away. 

Dex levels Chowder with a look. "Dear god, you have  _groupies_."

"I have  _friends_ , William." He says, in a tone that is way too familiar and Nursey-like. "Y'know, like friendly people do." 

Dex makes a face, but ignores the jibe in favour of spreading butter and a thin spiral of syrup on his waffles. "Whatever you say man, but don't come crying to me when one of them steals your underwear or something." He says, as he shovels a section of waffle into his mouth. He lets out a little content moan, before eyeing his plate suspiciously. Either he's losing his mind, or they give Chowder better  _waffles_ , too.

The two of them are quiet for a few seconds, each eating their respective suspiciously-better-than-average waffles, before Chowder breaks the silence. "Thanks again for coming with me, Dex."

Dex looks up. "Can you say 'thanks again' if you never thanked me in the first place?" Dex is, apparently, in something of a bad mood, and should probably stop snapping at Chowder like he's to blame. 

But Chowder just lets it roll off his back, because he's a better person than Dex has ever been. "Seriously, I appreciate the company. I would've asked Nursey, but. Y'know. He's got that... " Something in his expression changes, as he looks Dex directly in the eye. "...date."

Dex's fork stills in his hand, his mouth freezing around a mouthful of waffle. That sneaky son of a bitch. Dex's eyes narrow. "Are these waffles... different, somehow? Like, the recipe?"

Chowder's face tinges just slightly redder as he looks back down. "Jemma's a friend, she makes them special for me all the ti-"

"God fucking dammit." Dex drops his fork on the table, glaring at Chowder. He should've known. It all makes sense; treating him to spur of the moment food, prying just enough that he _knew_ Dex would accept just to change the subject, removing him from his comfort zone- "You _know,_ don't you."

"Know what?"

Dex slumps back in his chair, still glaring, and shakes his head slowly. "You  _lure_ me out of my room, pry me with special waffles, all to  _trick me_ into opening up." He huffs. "You really are Bitty's son."

Chowder gives him a hard look. "Shut up and eat your waffles, Dex."

"Maybe I don't want your stupid manipulative waffles." Dex grunts, like the mature adult he is.

Chowder rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll eat them." He pulls the plate halfway across the table before Dex smacks his hand across to stop it moving any further.

"I was making a point."

"Making a point." Chowder forks some waffles into his mouth. "That's a funny way of pronouncing 'being an asshole'; is that a Maine thing, or...?"

With the hand not holding his fork, Dex flips him off. Chowder chuckles, and Dex knows he's lost. There's no arguing with Chowder, or staying mad at Chowder, not without a self-inflicted guilt trip that can last  _weeks_. "Whatever." He grumbles, because he at least wants to have the last word. "I don't wanna talk about- anything that has to do with Nursey."

"No one's asking you to." Chowder says simply. " _I_ just thought you might like some free waffles and company so you're not wasting away in your room in a self-pity spiral. Guess I was wrong."

Oh, there it is. The guilt. Dex sighs and looks up at Chowder apologetically, with a drawn out sigh. "Way to lay the guilt trip on thick, Chow."

Chowder shrugs. "Not guilt-tripping if it's true." He chews at his lip uncomfortably for a second. "I just- didn't want you to be alone when you didn't have to be."

Dex is a terrible person. "Fuck, sorry, I- I appreciate it, really." He exhales. "I don't mean to be such a dick about things all the time."

"I know." Chowder says, that benevolent smile back in full force. "That's why I love you, and buy you waffles when you're sad."

"I'm not-" Dex says instinctively, then rethinks it, stabbing at his waffle. "It's complicated." He sighs. "Not that I'm- ugh. I _don't_ want to talk about this, but. Uh. How'd you know?"

Chowder shrugs. "Nursey had a date, which I thought was weird because I sort of expected any dates Nursey went on to be with you. Then Bitty made muffins, and you were nowhere to be found, and you weren't responding to any of my messages. I called you, and it went straight to voicemail, so I sort of just- made an educated guess?"

"Right." Dex exhales. "I'm done talking about this now."

Chowder nods. "Fine with me."

They chew in silence for a few seconds, but Dex can't resist the urge to ask, "Okay, but you expected Nursey to be going out with _me?_ Come on, in what universe."

Chowder frowns. "Um, in literally any universe where common sense exists?" Dex rolls his eyes. "No, c'mon Dex. You guys are so obviously good together! Haven't you ever heard of opposites attracting?"

"Yeah, in divorce proceedings."

Rolling his eyes, Chowder twirls his fork around his fingers idly, obviously thinking. "Look. I can't- what Nursey wants is what he wants. But sue me, _I_ want my best friends to be happy, and I think you could make Nursey a lot happier than some Philosophy major he's just gonna get bored with eventually."

Dex swallows roughly, looking down at his plate. "Yeah, I- I dunno." Dex can probably count on one hand the number of times he's made Nursey happy. He clears his throat. "You know, this is very nice of you to say, and all, but I can't help but think I've never actually told you I'm into guys."

Chowder flushes, looking sheepish. "This is... true." He chews on his lip again, before saying. "It was another educated guess, but I shouldn't have assumed. Sorry."

"No, it's- I'm gay." Dex says, very simply, over a plate of waffles at eight pm. He's come a long way. "I would've told you, probably soon, probably should've already, I just- I dunno, I've been in my head a lot, wrapped up in all this Nursey shit." He exhales, then quirks an eyebrow at Chowder. "Educated guess, huh?"

Chowder makes a little reluctant half grimace. "You, er. You look at Nursey a lot? In very... distinctive. Ways."

"Ah." 

"Don't worry." Chowder smiles then, a smile that's pure Chowder; all eager, bright joy that makes you feel better just looking at it. "I've also seen Nursey looking back."

He doesn't elaborate, but Dex can infer his meaning, and he just rolls his eyes and goes back to his food. Chowder means well, but Dex isn't overeager to get his hopes up just for them to be inevitable trampled into dust. So he doesn't respond, just takes another bite.

 

\--- 

He gets back to his dorm at a quarter to nine, feeling much better than he had when he left. After the initial discussion, Chowder was happy to let the subject of Nursey drop, and the two of them sat and talked, eating and laughing and talking about everything from plans for the upcoming holidays to hilariously awkward childhood stories. It's enough to take his mind off Nursey and keep him from dwelling; in fact, when he gets back to his dorm, he hasn't thought about Nursey once in at least half an hour.

So, given the massive grudge the universe is undoubtedly harbouring against Dex, it makes sense that Nursey would be waiting inside for him.

He turns around when Dex opens the door, still bent slightly to examine the photos on Petey's wall, and looks at Dex like he's surprised to see him. Well, no, not quite. There's surprise in his eyes, yes, but he also, strangely, exhales and relaxes the moment he sees Dex, in the satisfied way people usually do when they've figured out some puzzle that's been challenging them. Dex  _really_ doesn't like Nursey looking at him like he's figured Dex out.

"You know, I just realised that literally the only time I've ever been in your room is when I woke up here a couple weeks ago." Nursey says after a moment, breaking the silence as he huffs out a laugh. "Weird, right?"

Dex shrugs. "You being here now is probably weirder." He says bluntly, and almost flinches at his own words, but Nursey barely reacts except to nod, acknowledging. Dex finally crosses the threshold to his dorm room and closes the door behind him.

He can't think of a single reason for Nursey to be in his room right now, short of the date having gone so badly he needs Dex's help getting rid of a body, or Chowder having called him in some last ditch attempt to matchmake. But Chowder wouldn't, Dex knows, and Adrián doesn't exactly scream 'murderable', any more than Nursey seems capable of murder.

Dex walks to the other side of his room, sets his keys on the desk, and turns back to Nursey expectantly.

Nursey looks really good, Dex reluctantly notices. He's done something with his hair- Dex isn't sure what, but his curls are more defined, less soft-looking. He's wearing a light blue button-down with the sleeves cuffed below his elbows, showing off fairly distracting forearms. He leans against Petey's desk like he belongs there, comfortable and casual. Nursey should probably consider modelling if he doesn't try to go pro or write the next great American novel, he'd probably make a good career of it. Dex would sure as hell buy whatever Nursey's selling.  _He probably smells nice, too_ , supplies the part of Dex's brain that hates him and wants him to suffer.

"So," Dex says, finally. "How'd the date go?" He likes Nursey. He really, genuinely likes him. Dex considers Nursey a friend, growing to be a great one, and has a load of inconvenient feelings about him. He very much cares about Nursey and wants him to be happy. That being said, there is a significant part of Dex that would give his first born for Nursey's date to have been an unmitigated disaster.

Nursey shoves his hands in his pocket, rocking on his heels. "Honestly? It was- it was really, really good." He exhales. "We like, clicked on so many things? He's really funny, and sweet- he has a cute rescue cat? And like, he brought me bizcochitos from a care package his mom sent him because he wasn't sure when I'd last had some, so he's like, thoughtful and shit? I- he does printmaking, and he's doing this series of _beautiful,_ powerful pieces about being gay and Mexican, he showed me some pictures, he wanted to read my poetry?" Nursey's got a sort of far-away look in his eyes. "It was- we made sense. Together."

There is, apparently, a human emotion that feels like your lungs are wrapped around your heart, and your stomach's jumped into your throat, and everything else is swimming in a cesspool of disappointment, guilt, and inadequacy. And someone's just drop-kicked you in the face. 

"That's great." Someone says, probably Dex, because Nursey's mouth hasn't moved.

Dex's body turns away, so Nursey doesn't see whatever other things Dex's face is doing without his knowledge or permission. He braces his hands on his desk and breathes as his fingers grip the plastic until his knuckles burn an angry white. If Nursey weren't in the room, Dex could throw something, maybe. Take things out on an inanimate object for a few seconds, and then get on with his depressing life. 

Did Nursey really  _fucking_ have to deliver this news in person?

"Listen, Nurse, sorry, but I'm really tired-"

"No, I-" Nursey pauses. "I'll be quick."

Dex inhales, and pries his fingers away from the edge of the desk. He turns to face Nursey, but doesn't really look at him, and lowers himself onto his bed, feeling like he should probably be sitting down for this. "Then be quick."

Nursey clears his throat. "I get- really nervous? Around people I like? You probably noticed this before, when- well. Yeah."

Dex nods for Nursey to continue, as he forces himself to look at Nursey. Nursey, who's wringing his hands uncertainly, but looks no less painfully attractive.

"And I just. Wasn't nervous with Adrián. I didn't spill anything on myself, or trip over my words, literally the coolest of cucumbers."

Good, so Nursey's found someone he clicks with on every level and makes him feel comfortable. That's fucking awesome, and Dex is probably gonna puke, but things are awesome. "Right."

"The whole thing, it was just-" Nursey brings his hands up to his face, dragging his palms along the sides. "Just so  _fucked_ up, man."

Dex blinks, shocked, for a second. He focuses on Nursey's face, head tilting in confusion, because he must have misheard. "It's... wait, what?"

Nursey rubs at his eye, making a low, reluctant noise. "It was  _textbook_ perfect date. Like, the shit you tell your grandkids about. I went- I, Derek Nurse, went on a perfect date with a charming, gorgeous, bilingual artist who I've been lowkey obsessed with since the first time we met, and the entire  _fucking_ time- the entire time!" Nursey gestures with both hands and a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "I couldn't. Stop _thinking_. About-" His hands pause mid gesture, and curl in on themselves as Nursey stammers uncertainly, "Um. His... shirt."

"His shirt." Dex says slowly, like Nursey's speaking a language he doesn't understand. Because he is very, very confused. Nursey looks genuinely unhinged, and Dex is admittedly feeling a little calmer (he's hardly going to focus on how perfect Adrián apparently is when Nursey is actively losing his mind in the middle of Dex's dorm room, now is he).

Nursey nods, a little frantic and eyes wide. "Yes." He brings his palms together and presses his index fingers to his lips. “Right, so.” He's still nodding. “Adrián was wearing this t-shirt that his friend designed for him? They do screen printing, it’s this whole thing. And it was a really nice shirt, you could tell they’re a great graphic artist, and he explained how it represented the different parts of him and his life, and it was just, a really beautiful shirt, y’know?”

Dex thinks maybe it’s best to just let Nursey talk at this point, so he nods, slowly.

“But, um.” Nursey exhales forcefully, and stares down at the floor. “I couldn't stop thinking about this shirt of yours I wore the last couple of weeks? It’s like, dark blue plaid, really worn in?”

He looks to Dex, like he needs confirmation that Dex knows what he’s talking about. Dex’s brow furrows. “...yeah, I know it.” Dex owns twelve shirts. He doesn’t exactly have to think hard to remember specifics.

Nursey starts pacing, and Dex isn’t really even positive he’s talking to Dex anymore as he says, “Right, okay. So like, I kept thinking about how nice your plaid shirt was, and how soft and worn in it was and you’d obviously replaced the buttons on the sleeves because they didn’t match the ones on the front of the shirt, and there was just a lot of love in it? It was _mad_ warm, and nice, and it fit surprisingly well once I got used to the feel of it, and I don’t wear a lot of plaid ‘cause I don’t really like plaid, but I liked wearing it.” He looks up at Dex, like he's waiting for something from him, so Dex nods again, slowly.

Nursey frowns, slightly, before sighing and sitting down next to Dex on the bed, staring down at his hands in his lap. “Um, so what I’m trying to say is _usually_ , my entire life up to this point actually, I would’ve preferred Adrián’s… shirt. Because it made more sense with who I am, and what I like, but I couldn’t stop thinking about your- shirt, and eventually I realised that just because, you know, a shirt fits, doesn't make it perfect, does it? And maybe I _am_ the kind of person who likes plaid, and just because I’ve never worn plaid before doesn’t mean the shirt couldn’t be… kind of perfect. For me.”

Nursey finishes with a heavy, weary exhale, like he's just run a marathon, and looks up, staring at Dex expectantly.

“So you… want me to give you my shirt?” To repeat: Dex owns _twelve_. Nursey can buy his own damn plaid.

Nursey blinks at him. “…no.”

“You… want me to tell you where I bought the shirt?” Nursey groans, and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Nurse, you’re not making a lot of sense. None, actually.”

“Yeah, I- I know.” Nursey drops his hands and looks up at the cieling as if for guidance. “This is just- really hard? And words aren’t- I don’t have any good ones right now, and I know I’m rambling and making _shirt metaphors_ and this is _literally_ the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I swear to god if you _chirp me_ for this I’m never speaking to you again I just- you seemed _jealous_ , you really did, and I just thought- what if you weren’t jealous of _me_? And I hoped- what I’m _trying_ to say is- well, it’s-“

As Dex tries to keep up with whatever the fuck Nursey’s talking about, something clicks in his brain. “Nursey.” He interrupts, and Nursey looks grateful for it.

“Yes.”

Dex stares at him, cataloging the slightly panicked look in his eyes, the clench in his jaw. “You’re rambling.”

“I am- aware.” Nursey isn’t blinking.

“Are you…“ Dex doesn’t even know how to ask. He’s not sure he _wants_ to ask, as he’s absolutely fucking terrified of the answer, but at the same time he feels like he has to. “Nervous, right now?”

Nursey exhales shakily and suddenly. “Excruciatingly? Like, you have no idea, feel my heartbeat-“ He grabs Dex’s hand and pulls it flat against his chest. This puts Dex a lot closer to Nursey than he had been before, Nursey’s fingers warm around his wrist, and Nursey looks- relieved, slightly, but still mostly panicked. Nursey leans forward to mutter sheepishly, “This is what you do to me, apparently.”

“Oh.” Is all Dex can say, staring at where his palm lays flat against Nursey’s chest, warming the skin even through the shirt, feeling Nursey’s erratic heartbeat under his fingers, or maybe Dex's heart is just beating so loudly it's pulsing through every atom in Dex's body and vibrating along his fingertips.

There’s a few seconds of silence in which he just _feels_. He hears Nursey’s breath, erratic and choppy, can feel Nursey’s patient, if not panicked, eyes on him, and is, for the first time, aware that his roommate isn’t in the room, though he has a deadline tomorrow and that usually means he doesn’t leave or sleep until it’s submitted. Dex wonders if Nursey had something to do with that.

It all takes a moment to really sink in- he’s alone, with Nursey. Nursey who was waiting in Dex’s room instead of with his date, and who rambles when he’s nervous, and who is more nervous around Dex than Adrián. Nursey, who is smart, and funny, and talented, and so _devastatingly_ attractive, is nervous around _Dex_. Is looking at Dex like he’s begging him to understand what Nursey, the poet, can’t put into words.

“You.” Nursey swallows, leans in further, closer to Dex. “You know where I’m going with this.” It’s not really a question.

Dex’s eyes travel down to Nursey’s lips, then back up to his eyes as he exhales. “Yeah.” He says, before he can begin to overthink.

Nursey's nose brushes against Dex's, feather-light. “Any objections?”

Dex exhales. The space between his lips and Nursey’s is less than it has ever been, and so much further than he’d like. “Only with how long it’s taking you to get there.”

Nursey leans in, and Dex tilts his head up instinctively, and they meet in the middle.

Dex forgets to respond, he’s so dedicated to committing the entire experience to memory. His eyes are open for the first second, because he’s shocked, and everything he is shuts down for a moment, but also because there’s a part of him that wants to watch Nursey’s eyelashes flutter closed, so he can remember what it looks like.

Derek Nurse is  _kissing him_. On the mouth. In his dorm room, on Dex's grandma's blanket.  _On the fucking mouth_. 

Dex wants to remember every second of it.

His eyes close, and he focuses on the feeling. Nursey’s thumb and forefinger resting on Dex’s jaw, warm and familiar. Nursey’s lips, which a more eloquent person could probably find the words to describe, but Dex kind of gets stuck at ‘perfect’. The way Nursey’s nose brushes against his, and his bottom lip lingers along Dex’s. Details. 

Nursey pulls away slowly, his top lip brushing against Dex's as he goes, every sensation lingering. He doesn't go far- their noses are still touching, Nursey's breath is warm against his cheek. Dex doesn't open his eyes- it feels like if he opens them, something will break, or change, and he couldn't handle that. A moment passes and neither of them move, save Nursey's thumb rubbing a slow, gentle circle against Dex's jaw. Dex's mind short-circuits trying to process everything that's going on, and instinct kicks in- he only has to lean forward a fraction to kiss Nursey back.

Nursey makes a surprised, pleased noise, and melts into him.

And it's so,  _so_ good.

It’s slow, agonising and wonderful; it feels like the most natural thing in the world, the way Nursey pulls when Dex pushes, and Dex lets himself touch, sliding one hand up from where it’s resting against Nursey’s chest to brush against the short hairs on the line of his jaw, and the other to linger on Nursey’s hip, applying just a little bit of pressure. Nursey’s tongue licks out, not intrusive, just teasing Dex’s bottom lip, and his hand fists in Dex’s shirt, like he’s anchoring himself. Nursey's lips begin to part, and Dex realises he's  _smiling_.

Dex is going to  _explode._

Nursey's other hand moves from Dex’s jaw to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers running through the hairs there, at the same time Dex is brave enough to push his thumb up under the hem of Nursey’s shirt, ghosting along the warm skin underneath, earning him a shiver and a pleased hum from Nursey, and Dex makes a borderline embarrassing noise of contentment.

Nursey pulls away, and Dex tries to follow for a second, before catching himself and slowly opening his eyes. Nursey looks how Dex feels, shocked and a little overwhelmed and fucking _ecstatic_ as he sits, breathless and lips shining. His grip on Dex’s shirt loosens, but his hand stays flat against Dex’s chest. Nursey looks at Dex with a mixture of hesitation and expectation, like he’s waiting for an answer to a question he hasn’t asked.

Dex _wants_ to tell Nursey that he’s fairly sure he can die happy, now, or that kissing him feels more right than anything else Dex has ever done in his life, but doesn’t have the words to do so, apparently, because what comes out is, “Where’s Petey?”

It shatters the mood immediately, which Dex almost appreciates, because it allows his heart to calm down a little. Nursey’s jaw falls open slowly, and he blinks at Dex once, twice, obviously processing and re-processing his words. “…who the fuck is Petey?” He asks finally.

Dex raises an eyebrow, and nods in the direction of the empty bed. “My roommate?”

“Wow.” Nursey exhales, shaking his head slowly. “ _Petey_.” Dex gives him a look, and Nursey chuckles, looking not-quite apologetic. “Yeah, I gave him a fifty and asked for the room for an hour.”

Dex… Dex isn’t sure how to respond to that. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Is what he settles on, teasing, and pinches the now-exposed skin of Nursey’s hip lightly. “A _fifty."_

“You’re worth it.” Nursey says, and Dex can’t tell if he’s being sincere, but he does immediately experience the unique sensation of wanting to kiss Nursey within an inch of his life, while simultaneously resisting the urge to gag at the cheesiest line he’s ever heard. Nursey thankfully saves it by shrugging, “Also, it was the smallest bill I had on me.” He waits for a response for a beat, until the silence drags. “Dex?”

“I just- hate you?” Dex answers simply. Dex is going to have to get used to this, probably, hopefully. Liking (dating?) someone who casually carries bills over fifty dollars, someone who gives away a fifty for an hour alone with Dex, when an hour of Dex’s time has been officially defined as worth maybe ten bucks.

Nursey’s face breaks into a wide smile that is probably not the usual reaction to a phrase that ends with ‘I hate you’, but Nursey speaks Dex, apparently, and can probably guess what Dex actually means. "You don't kiss like someone who hates me."

Dex opens his mouth to respond, but Nursey swoops in and kisses him before he can say anything. Dex, who is not used to sneak attack kisses, makes a startled noise and is almost instantly overwhelmed by Nursey's mouth on his, that perfect warmth back against his lips, the way he tugs at Dex's bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. Afterwards, it takes Dex a second to reboot, eyes dragging open to focus on Nursey's grinning face. "Christ, you look _irritatingly_ pleased with yourself." Dex's voice comes out hoarser than he was expecting.

Nursey smiles wider, and Dex's already overwhelmed heart spasms meekly. He can kiss that smile if he wants to. Can touch, and kiss, and he could probably push Nursey down to the bed if he were so inclined, have him soft and warm underneath Dex, smiling that godforsaken, wonderful smile up at him, until the kisses deepen and maybe, if Dex can hold off having a heart attack, clothes start coming off. Could, but won't, because he has a roommate with an essay due at ten am.

Dex clears his throat. “How long ago did you pay Petey to make himself scarce?”

“Um.” Nursey shrugs. “Not sure. Probably a while? I think I wore a rut into your carpet, I spent kind of a long time pacing in here.” He smiles, sheepish.

Dex face warms at the mental image of Nursey, worrying over how to go about telling Dex he’d prefer him to Adrián. It's possible Nursey isn't the only one who's pleased with himself. “Yeah, he’s got a deadline tomorrow, he’ll probably be back the second your hour’s up.”

“We could go back to my room?” Nursey clears his throat, looking determinedly at a spot above Dex’s left ear. “Not for- I mean. We could watch a film, or something.”

“Or something.” Dex grins. He leans in to kiss Nursey again, because he can, and because he’s pretty sure he wants to kiss Nursey more than he’s ever wanted to kiss anyone. Once was not nearly enough; Nursey's the kind of person that deserves to be kissed, often, and by someone who knows how to do it. It’s a role Dex is all too happy to fill.  


 

\---

It takes them a _really_ long time to get back to Nursey's dorm. They're talking, and laughing, and strolling through the moonlight, and- kissing. Mostly kissing.

“You gonna write a poem about me now?” Dex says, eventually, when Nursey's got him pressed against the wall of- well, something structural. Definitely, probably a building. Honestly, who cares. Nursey's mouth drags down the column of his neck, leaving little kisses that tickle and warm Dex to his core.

“Hmm.” Nursey bites a little, at his collarbone, and pulls away, giving Dex a long, considering look. “Maybe. I still don’t have the right words, I don’t think.”

Dex doesn’t pout. As a rule. But he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. “It can’t be that hard to sum me up,” He teases, pressing up into the warm plane that is Nursey. “Ginger, angry, freckles. Toss in some nature metaphors and you’re done.”

“That’s all surface level, though.” Nursey says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want Dex to hear. “I want more than that."

Dex flushes; sure, they kissed, they're obviously giving- whatever this is- a shot, but they haven’t talked about any feelings beyond mutual attraction. Dex is honestly shocked and grateful that Nursey is attracted to him at all, but what Nursey’s saying… sounds almost like an admission of more than Dex could’ve hoped for. Nursey's hand nudges at Dex's, who looks down in time to see Nursey lace their fingers together, which shouldn’t feel nearly as groundbreaking as it does. If Dex cared enough, he might be embarrassed by how his heartbeat quickens and his face flushes and something inside Dex tells him with certainty that at that moment he could fly, if he really put his mind to it. All that just from Derek Nurse holding his hand. Whatever. Dex is too happy to be embarrassed.

He beams, feeling the smile stretch at the corners of his mouth, and fuck it, kisses Nursey on the nose, because he likes Nursey's nose, and he likes Nursey.

Nursey blinks at him, eyes wide, mouth face caught between a smile and confusion. "See, that- how am I supposed to have words for that?" He sighs, fond. "I want to understand you, William.”

Dex swallows roughly; he didn't realise, before, how nice Nursey's voice sounds around the syllables of his name. “You don’t already?” 

“I thought I did. Then I knew I didn’t.” Nursey responds thoughtfully, his thumb tracing circles into the back of Dex’s hand. “I think I’m getting there, though, the more we, um, hang out.” He shrugs one shoulder with a grin. “It’s a slow process though, getting inspiration for a poem. Could be a while before I have enough material.”

“ _Well_ , Derek, if it’ll get me a poem,” Dex teases, playing at reluctant, then, in a moment of reckless romanticism (which is probably justified, they are discussing _poetry)_ he pulls their linked palms up and presses a slow kiss to the back of Nursey’s hand. “I suppose we’ll just have to spend a bit more time together.”

Nursey smiles, warm and genuine and heart-stopping. “I can think of worse things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dex is a fucking sap pass it on
> 
> also apparently when i say i will do things we should always just assume such things are blatant lies ? i don't even have a really good excuse this time life just caught up with me and i also rewrote this shit about ten times before i was happy w it so here we are
> 
> and i know waffles are essentially a minor character in this fic but in my experience there are few things hipsters love more than brunch, and students love more than breakfast food at non-breakfasty times, and anyway waffles are just real nice so 
> 
> final thoughts on the fic: im so sad it's over i love writing this fic there will probably be an epilogue
> 
> and in the grand tradition of naming songs in this fic the country sallad (sad ballad) dex is listening to is probably die a happy man by thomas rhett because he's a Fucking Sap
> 
> and quick PSA: calling chowder bitty's son or infantilising him is some Bullshit and chowder gets somewhat appropriately annoyed in the fic but lets it slide because he's being supportive of Dex, and Dex still has growing to do but he's trying and we all know this but i do not condone that sort of infantilising nonsense just wanna make that clear
> 
> and another thing i wanna make clear: how hot do you think nursey looked in this chapter? double it. he Killed it and after being gently told that they were better off friends, Adrián had to have a very large container of ice cream while watching jane the virgin w emi, both tucked up under a blanket and wistfully bemoaning the hotness of unobtainable hockey players
> 
> and finally, as always, thank you so much everyone whos commented and left kudos on this fic, every single one of them has made my day, but Especially those of you who have left comments on every chapter you're the real MVPs and i love you to death, i willingly admit that i see your icons and smile and every time hope that ive made you happy with the latest update. everyone is free to come talk to me on tumblr anytime (dameferre) about this fic or anything at all, and hopefully i'll have some more nurseydex fics coming up soon...
> 
> anyway love you all have a great fucking day


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